


In The Dark Of The Night

by Esperata



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: AU, Attempted Seduction, Birthday, Declarations Of Love, Demons, Episode s01e09 Civilization, Episode: s01e24 Desert Crossing, Fighting, First Dates, First Time, Frottage, Getting to Know Each Other, Ghosts, M/M, Movie Night, Paranormal, Relationship Advice, Roommates, Sharing a Room, Sparring, Supernatural - Freeform, Teasing, Vampires, Werewolves, Zombies, away mission, wolf - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-08 13:04:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12865089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata
Summary: Trip Tucker's an ordinary human transferred to an extraordinary ship.





	1. Meet The Crew

Trip’s luck with women was so bad that he was beginning to suspect he was cursed. It wasn’t so bad back in Florida, where the worst he suffered was a few beatings from elder siblings, but since he moved to Frisco things really took a turn for the strange.

It wasn’t as if he went out looking for trouble, he mused ruefully, but trouble in women’s guise generally turned up. When would he learn that no good ever came from such beckoning smiles?

Well, if he hadn’t learnt before, he reckoned this latest escapade would teach him.

He pulled himself to his feet as the shuttle prepared to dock, girding himself to meet his new shipmates even as he reflected on the unexpectedness of his assignment. He still wasn’t sure how he went from flirting with Ruby to being shipped out to Enterprise.

A shiver ran through him along with the tremor from shuttle latching to ship. Everyone knew the rumours about _this_ ship’s crew.

“Good luck sir,” the pilot muttered to him as Trip hefted his duffle bag and moved to disembark. Trip shot him an unamused smile and stepped forward to meet his fate.

The faces he met seemed anticlimactic and he didn’t feel any of the expected panic as the shuttle door shut behind him.

“Commander Tucker. I’m Captain Archer.”

The broad, brown haired man in front of him held out a hand. Tucker instinctively gripped it and then braced for a punishing grasp. To his surprise the handshake was almost disappointingly normal.

“Pleased t’ meet ya,” he drawled.

The captain’s lips pulled up slightly before he turned to the shorter man beside him.

“This is Lieutenant Reed, our Tactical Officer.”

“Commander.”

The British accent was clipped and precise, just as the brisk handshake was. Tucker inclined his head in greeting, battling a growing sense of unease. It was like waiting for the other shoe to drop. He stared at the dark haired man a long moment but all he saw was him flare his nostrils slightly.

“I’m sorry our First Officer couldn’t meet you.” The captain’s voice drew Tucker’s attention back. “She was… dealing with a member of crew.”

“I understand. Duty comes first.”

The lieutenant arched an eyebrow at his comment but said nothing. Captain Archer grinned showing off a pair of prominent canine teeth.

“Glad you think so,” he declared cheerfully.

All Tucker could do was stare at those pointed teeth.

“I’d offer to show you round myself,” Archer continued, “but as you say – duty comes first. Lieutenant?”

The Tactical Officer nodded to his captain and then gestured for Tucker to accompany him. As the captain turned and headed off, Tucker brought his wide eyes back to the lieutenant.

“Is he really…?” Trip swallowed hard, unable to form the word. He was only just realising that despite hearing the rumours so persistently, he’d never really _believed_ them.

Lieutenant Reed looked faintly amused as he answered.

“A vampire? Yes, he is. Though he generally doesn’t feed on the senior staff. Plenty of unlisted crewmen for that.”

“He feeds on the _crew_?” Tucker couldn’t help it. He sounded aghast and he kept close to the normal looking man guiding him as his eyes darted around warily.

That well defined eyebrow rose again.

“A number of personnel enlisted specifically for the purpose,” he explained. Trip continued to look appalled so he softened his tone. “They enjoy being needed, I think. And they hope one day he’ll turn them so they can live forever.”

The derisive snort told Trip what Reed thought of that idea.

“You don’t think he will?”

“Almost certainly not. Vampires are solitary creatures. Unless they decide to take a mate they’ll almost never turn a food supply into competition.”

Tucker tried to decide whether he should feel relieved or not.

“This is sickbay,” Reed announced as they approached a set of double doors. “May you never need to visit,” he added in an undertone as the doors swished open.

Tucker followed Reed inside somewhat hesitantly but was pleasantly surprised to find the area reminiscent of all the medical facilities he’d visited in San Francisco. With the exception of several cages that he immediately went towards for a closer look.

“I wouldn’t touch if I were you,” Reed cautioned him. Tucker glanced at the obviously uncomfortable man before a cheery voice interrupted them.

“Well, well, well. I didn’t expect to see you here Lieutenant.”

“Just showing Commander Tucker the facilities,” Reed answered brusquely but Tucker barely noticed. He was staring hard at the individual who had joined them.

“Ah! Our new senior officer. I must say I was surprised at your appointment Commander. We don’t usually get – if you’ll forgive the bluntness – ordinary humans assigned to our senior staff.”

“Firs’ time fer everythin’.” Tucker managed to reply, even as he fidgeted under the doctor’s intense scrutiny.

“Indeed there is! Indeed there is. I hope you’ll find the time to submit to an examination once you’re settled in? It will of course facilitate future treatment.”

“I’ll try an’ do that,” Tucker agreed, even as he found himself shifting towards the exit. To his great relief, his guide was already way ahead of him.

“Sorry for the brevity Phlox. The Commander has a lot to see.”

“Not at all. Don’t let me detain you.”

Tucker felt another shiver and was happy to hear the sickbay doors shutting behind him.

“What was _he_?” Trip hissed.

“Doctor Phlox? He’s a Denobulan demon. Nobody really knows much about them.”

“A _demon_?”

Reed shot him another amused glance.

“I’m assuming you didn’t request this posting Commander?”

“No. I didn’t,” Trip admitted, following Reed into the turbolift. “But I’m here now so I guess I’d better get used to it.”

The other man smiled and Tucker felt his spirits lift somewhat.

“An’ I think you oughta get used to calling me Trip,” he added.

That startled the other man and the smile promptly disappeared.

“I don’t think that would be appropriate Commander,” he replied stiffly before stepping smartly out onto the lower deck.

Trip frowned but didn’t argue. He couldn’t afford to offend the only other normal person he’d met.

“This is the armoury,” Reed announced and Trip was relieved to see the man’s stance relax as he entered his own territory. “I work down here anytime I’m not needed on the bridge.”

“What weapons has Enterprise got?”

Strictly speaking, Trip already knew the answer to that, but he wanted to get the lieutenant to talk more easily.

“Ventral and dorsal torpedo launchers and three phase cannons,” Reed answered promptly. “There are also 14 fully stocked weapons lockers strategically placed and, ah, of course the senior staff each have their own unique skill sets.”

That half smirk was back on the Englishman’s face and Trip felt it safe to prod further.

“An’ what exactly are those?”

Reed surveyed Tucker for a moment before clearly concluding the man should know who and what he was dealing with. He leant back against the torpedo launcher housing as he began.

“Well, you’ve met the captain and Phlox already. The First Officer is another demon species, specifically a succubus.”

“A what?”

“A succubus,” Reed repeated with an eyeroll. “They… take advantage of men. In bed.”

He gave Tucker a significant look to ensure he understood.

“That sounds…” Tucker began before Reed swiftly interrupted.

“Like the last thing you’d ever experience? Any man falling prey to her charms is reduced to a soulless husk obedient to her every whim. A mannequin.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. ‘Oh’. Luckily she rarely indulges in that sort of behaviour. But don’t be fooled by her delicate appearance. She’s stronger than anyone. Except possibly the captain.”

“Right, gotcha. Anyone else I should know about?”

Reed considered this carefully.

“Well, Hoshi might give you a bit of a start but she’s perfectly harmless. And very polite.” At Trip’s confused look he explained. “She’s a ghost but she never enters your personal space uninvited.”

Tucker nodded and tried to look like meeting a ghost was something he did every day.

“And Ensign Mayweather is alright once you get used to the smell.”

“The smell?”

“He’s a zombie. But your nose might not be as sensitive as mine.”

Trip ignored that comment to focus on the relevant information there.

“A zombie? Doesn’t he, you know…” Trip held his arms out and let his eyes roll back into his head. “Brains,” he drawled.

A barked laugh made him drop the act with a smile.

“Don’t let Travis see you do that,” Reed answered, still grinning. “He’s really just like a normal human. Least, he is during the day. At night he can be a bit… slow and… I guess a little… hungry. But I can’t really throw stones on _that_ score.”

Trip was about to ask when a scuffling noise and a quiet bark drew his attention. He looked down to see a small beagle sat apparently watching them.

Reed rolled his eyes and pushed himself upright.

“Yes, alright. We’re moving.”

The little dog promptly turned and trotted away. The two men began to follow.

“What was that about?” Tucker asked curiously.

Reed glanced back at him.

“That was Porthos. He’s the captain’s… pet. Another pair of eyes and ears really.”

“Sounded to me like you were really talking to him,” Trip suggested with a smile.

“Not exactly. I understand his body language and odours but we don’t exactly ‘talk’. I’m not a dog.”

“I never suggested you were,” Trip replied with some confusion as he followed Reed into the lift.

The lieutenant glanced up at him.

“You haven’t figured it out have you?”

“Figured what out?” Trip asked as another shiver ran down his spine in anticipation.

Reed stared at him and waited until the doors opened before answering.

“What I am Mister Tucker.”

As he followed Reed out, Trip found himself swallowing nervously.

“No,” he managed to breathe out.

The lieutenant turned to him as he stopped outside the door to engineering.

“Well, you’ll be relieved to know I’m as human as you during the day.”

“Tha’s good to hear,” Tucker agreed hesitantly.

“But don’t be surprised to see a wolf prowling the corridors at night Commander.”

Tucker stared and swallowed hard, unable to speak suddenly. Reed stared up at him expectantly.

“I’ll consider m’self warned,” Tucker eventually spoke.

The answer seemed to satisfy the lieutenant who nodded briskly.

“I’ll leave you to get to know your team. All perfectly normal humans you’ll be relieved to hear. Should I meet you at dinner to show you to the messhall?”

The question was clearly about more than showing a new crewmate the layout and Tucker realised it immediately.

“I’d like that.” He found it surprisingly easy to smile at the werewolf.

Reed blinked, clearly startled, before he too smiled.

“I’ll see you at 1900 then Commander.”

As the lieutenant meandered back to his duties, Trip found himself imagining a tail on the man and laughed to himself.

His life had certainly taken a turn for the strange, but not necessarily the worse.


	2. Ghostly Parries

Tucker found his crew to be a good team to work with, all obviously proud to be serving on the Federation’s most famous ship. He had feared finding them cowed or frightened by their commanding officers but few of them even seemed to bat an eyelid. A few, it was true, were almost in awe of the captain or T’Pol and quite clearly found their new Chief disappointing. But overall, he found himself accepted even more easily than on any other posting.

In fact, he was so involved with the group’s work and chatter that he didn’t notice 1900 roll around nor the almost immediate arrival of the Tactical Officer.

At least not until Crewman Kelly nudged him and whispered, “Looks like the captain’s sent his watchdog to retrieve you.”

Trip glanced over his shoulder just in time to catch the flicker of annoyance flash over the lieutenant’s face. Clearly the werewolf’s hearing was better than a normal human’s.

“Nah,” Trip assured her, “The lieutenant offered to show me the messhall.”

He waved a goodbye, ignoring her raised eyebrows, and headed across to meet the bristling Brit.

“Hiya.”

Reed stared at him and then headed away without a word. Tucker immediately picked up his pace to keep up.

“Sorry about Kelly,” he offered. “Guess she didn’t know yer hearing’s that good.”

His companion stopped and turned on him abruptly.

“They know full well I can hear them. They just do it to wind me up. I am not some _pet_ of the captain. Neither am I at all dog like. I do not play fetch, roll over or require walkies.”

This last was said with such distaste that Trip couldn’t help but wince and apologise.

Reed blinked at him and then deflated.

“Sorry. It’s hardly your fault the engineering team like to poke fun. You only just got here after all.”

He continued leading the way but slowed his pace to a more relaxed stroll.

“Ah’m surprised they dare make fun of yer actually,” Trip said. “Guess that shows how relaxed they are ‘bout it.”

Reed snorted indelicately.

“Hardly. It’s because their last Chief was a vampire. They don’t traditionally get on with werewolves. It created a bit of rivalry between engineering and the armoury to be honest.”

“Oh? What happened to him?”

“Remember I told you vampires are territorial? It was never going to sit well with the captain having another vampire on board. Kelby was transferred.”

Something about the way Reed said that made Trip feel uncomfortable and he looked to change the topic.

“Well, I hope we’ll get our teams working together in the future. I’m sure with what your guys know about weapons and my team know about power circuits we could probably increase the yield on those phase cannons of yours.”

“Hhhmm.” Reed hummed somewhat dubiously but then brightened as they entered the messhall.

Trip glanced over to see what his companion had spied and saw a somewhat transparent woman hovering at an empty table. She offered them a wave which Trip returned instinctively before being herded towards the food cabinets.

“Hoshi?” he hazarded.

“Yes,” the lieutenant agreed but his focus was clearly on the food in front of them. “You should be safe to eat anything from here – always assuming you don’t have any allergies. The… specialist food is kept in another chiller in the galley.”

Trip glanced over the selection and found it remarkably similar to what had been served back on Earth.

He grabbed himself a plate with a burger and fries and turned to follow Reed to the ghost waiting for them. As they manoeuvred closer he glanced at the man’s plate and was surprised to see it was full of pasta.

“I’d have thought you’d be more of a meat fan,” he commented, hoping to sound casual.

The look he received implied he’d failed.

“While I _can_ eat raw meat, it doesn’t mean it’s a favourite.”

“Is pasta your favourite then?”

“Don’t start trying to get him to admit to a partiality to anything,” a beautifully accented voice joined their conversation. “Unless its superior weaponry or an enhanced fighting style.”

Trip sat down with a grin. He sensed he was going to like Hoshi.

“Commander Tucker, this is Ensign Hoshi Sato. She’s our resident language expert.”

“Call me Trip,” he immediately added.

“Southern states?” she asked. “Florida?”

“How’d you guess? Oh. I suppose you were briefed?”

“Not at all. I have a good ear for languages. Accents are just another part of that.”

“Hoshi has heard a lot of languages in her time. And she has a remarkable memory and ability to find common links.”

“Now Malcolm. What have I said about quoting a woman’s age?”

“I never mentioned your age.”

Hoshi huffed but she clearly was only teasing.

“Are you from Japan originally?” Trip asked her.

“Yes, from the capital city Kyoto.”

“Ah thought Tokyo was the capital city?”

A pearlescent shimmer crossed her cheeks and Reed cut in demurely, “Tokyo only became the capital in the 19th century.”

A rather awkward silence fell during which Trip tried to work out exactly how old that made the pretty woman opposite him.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said, rising gracefully. “I promised T’Pol I’d help with a new language algorithm.”

Malcolm flashed her a rather apologetic smile but didn’t press her to stay.

“Damn,” Trip muttered. “I hope I didn’t offend her.”

“Hoshi’s a little sensitive about her greater age. It makes her a wonderful conversationalist on historical subjects but does tend to make her feel isolated. It’s a feeling common to most of the command crew in one way or another though.”

Malcolm dug into his pasta but Trip wasn’t about to let a comment like that pass by. Even if it meant sticking his other foot in his mouth.

“So what about you? You got family? Or, I don’t know, a pack?”

“I have parents and one sister.”

“You keep in touch? Are they wolves too?”

“Werewolves,” Malcolm corrected primly. “And yes, it’s a genetic thing.”

Trip noticed that Malcolm had deftly avoided answering the first part but let that go for now.

“So do you change every full moon? And how’s that work on a ship anyhow?”

The lieutenant stared hard at him but Trip held his gaze with determination and eventually Reed gave in.

“Like I said, it’s genetic. There’s no actual link to moonlight or night at all but once every twenty four hours I transform. I could change as early as now if I focused on it. Or resist as late as possibly midnight. But eventually I _would_ change.”

“Then why’s everyone always saying its only at full moon?”

“I think we were simply more visible then. Or perhaps we evolved over the centuries. I don’t know!”

“Careful Commander. Contrary to the usual expression, his bite really is worse than his bark.”

Both men were startled by the interruption and Trip flushed as he realised their exchange had been overheard.

Malcolm’s face shut down as the captain drew up beside their table.

“Everything alright?” Archer asked.

“Fine,” Tucker replied immediately. “I was just being too nosey for my own good.”

“Ah yes. Mister Reed doesn’t like to discuss personal affairs.”

“Which is fair enough,” Trip admitted. “I mean, he don’t know me from Adam.”

“How well he knows you has nothing to do with it,” Archer fired back. “Our lieutenant is by nature paranoid and highly defensive.”

“Both qualities that have served me well,” Reed put in swiftly.

The captain smiled and Tucker realised abruptly that the animosity between vampires and werewolves clearly didn’t stop at rank boundaries. Then Archer turned to Tucker, subliminally side-lining the lieutenant.

“I’d suggest you turn in early tonight Commander. And it might be wise to stay in your room overnight. At least until you’re more familiar with Enterprise and less likely to get yourself lost. There’s all sorts of dark corners we might lose you in.”

His smile was probably meant to be amused but Tucker couldn’t help but find those pointed teeth threatening.

“I’ll bear that in mind,” he assured the man.

Beside them, Reed rose with barely a sound.

“I’ll show you to your quarters,” he offered.

As Trip got up and followed him towards the exit, Archer called out one last warning.

“Make sure you don’t invite the lieutenant in, Commander. Wouldn’t want to be around him past 2100.”

As Reed led him swiftly away from the messhall, Trip struggled to find something to say that would ease the obvious sting from the captain’s words.

“So… who handles the armoury overnight?”

Malcolm’s slight wince at the question didn’t go unnoticed and Trip wondered what he’d said wrong now. Probably just the reference to ‘hands’, he mused.

“Major Hayes,” Reed answered promptly.

“And what’s he like? I mean, is he…?”

“He’s fully human,” Malcolm answered the unasked question. “And he’s got the certificates to prove it,” he added in an irritated mumble.

“Oh. Right.”

“You’ll meet him tomorrow.” Malcolm sounded resigned.

Trip cast him a sideways glance, seeing briefly through the lieutenant persona to an altogether lonelier man within. How difficult must it be for a werewolf to form connections to people? It didn’t sound like he was even close to his own family.

“Well, I hope you aren’t thinking of palming me off onto the major, lieutenant. I wanna hear all about what a wolf – sorry, _werewolf_ – pack is like and how yer came to be such rivals to the vampires.”

Trip offered the man a smile and after a moment’s hesitance had it cautiously returned.

“This is your room.” Malcolm gestured. “Your bag should have been delivered earlier.”

“Good. Thanks.”

Malcolm inclined his head and then made to leave. For some reason though, Trip wanted to say something further, although he wasn’t sure what.

“Uh, Malcolm?”

The shorter man turned and looked at him inquisitively. Trip floundered a moment.

“I mean it. Thanks.”

The werewolf looked momentarily puzzled before a genuine smile spread across his face.

“You’re welcome. Sleep well Trip.”


	3. Night-time Wanderings

Trip had no objection to following the captain’s advice by retiring early to his quarters. He didn’t mind since he had plenty of letters to send off, letting his friends and family know he was safely on board and _safe_ on board. He also had an opportunity to run through a few more specifications that he hadn’t fully memorised which he probably ought to have.

Yet, by the time he should be tired and getting ready to turn in, he wasn’t at all sleepy. Everything about the day was buzzing round in his mind. He treated himself to a hot shower, put on some comfy clothes, and watched a movie, but still found himself wide awake.

Glancing at the chronometer confirmed that far from getting an early night as planned, he was now heading into the realm of ‘not enough sleep’. He frowned as he anticipated his first day on duty without getting sufficient rest. Something told him he might need his wits about him with this crew.

He sighed.

There was one tried and tested method of helping him sleep but it would require a visit to the messhall. He contemplated the warning he’d been given before swiftly deciding he couldn’t really be expected to lock himself in his room overnight. He was the Chief Engineer! He had to be on call all times.

Thus decided, he stepped back into the corridor and retraced his steps back to the messhall, glad that the ship was at least easy to navigate.

As he entered the room, a glance round revealed only one other crewperson – an ensign from his insignia – so Trip paid him no mind. He hadn’t realised just how tense he’d been about running into one of the more unusual people on board.

“Milk – warm,” he requested.

His shoulders noticeably relaxed as he picked up the warm cup and inhaled the familiar scent. Nothing like a cup of warm milk to send you to sleep.

Turning, he very nearly dropped the cup as he saw the ensign had stood and was staring across the room at him.

Recovering himself, Tucker offered a small smile and wave.

“Evenin’.”

There was no visible response and Trip shifted awkwardly under the continued scrutiny.

“Just getting somethin’ t’ help me sleep.” He raised the cup in explanation. Although why he felt it necessary to explain his presence was beyond him. He outranked the other man.

Realising that shook him from his surprised burbling and he began to make his way towards the door intent on returning to his quarters and getting some much needed rest.

However his own movement seemed to spur the ensign into responding and Tucker saw immediately that the other guy would be blocking his path unless he actually made a run for it. Drawing to a stop instead, he surveyed the young man.

He was dark skinned, of good height and breadth and might, in better light, be quite handsome. However in the shadowy night lighting he appeared waxy and the lack of a smile made him look disagreeable.

Plus, the silent treatment really didn’t do it for Tucker.

“Look, you got somethin’ t’ say?” he asked with a touch of frustration. When that got no reply he tried again. “Am I botherin’ you or somethin’?”

A flicker of some emotion flashed in the dark eyes and Tucker suddenly regretted pressing for a response. As the ensign made to move a low sound caught both their attention.

Trip glanced to the doorway and saw a tense grey wolf, hackles raised, growling low in its throat. A look back confirmed his companion was stilled by the sound and Trip allowed himself to take in the sight of the animal.

It was easily as tall as his hip but sleek instead of broad. The fur was dark over the top of its head but shifted to pure white down the torso. The only colour to describe it overall was _silver_. It looked glorious. And terrifying.

The wolf stepped towards the ensign and the man immediately stepped back. Strangely, Trip couldn’t see any actual fear on his face. Unlike his own face, he thought, as the wolf turned to him.

It took him a moment to recognise that the growling had stopped. And another to see that the wolf was looking at him expectantly.

He took a cautious step towards the now clear door and the wolf stepped with him. Satisfied he was doing as the wolf wanted, Trip continued until he was safe in the corridor.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

The wolf – _Malcolm_ , his mind supplied – looked once down the corridor then back to him.

“Yeah, alright. Ah’m heading there now,” he muttered, setting off back towards his quarters, Malcolm keeping pace alongside.

Once he reached his door though, the wolf blocked it before he could even key in his code.

“What the?” Trip stared as he tried to figure out what the guy was up to now.

For his part Malcolm took a step further along the corridor and then stared back at Trip.

Tucker glanced at his door, then back at the wolf. The sensible thing to do was head into his room and lock the door, just as the captain had suggested.

_Except_ , he had no doubt the wolf could easily drag him if he wanted and where was the sense in aggravating a werewolf?

Plus, Malcolm had just saved him from… well, Tucker still wasn’t really sure what that situation had been about in the mess hall. Perhaps he hadn’t been saved so much as abducted.

Still…

“Alright,” he acquiesced and continued to follow his lupine guide.

The nerves built in his stomach until they stopped and he was suddenly startled into laughter.

Malcolm had halted by his door and pressed his nose against a specialised sensor pad. As the door slid open and the wolf glared at him, Trip decided against commenting on the cuteness of the scene, but it was with a much more relaxed air he wandered inside.

“So this is the wolf’s den huh?”

Malcolm didn’t deign that with any response but trotted in to sit beside the bunk. Trip took a second to look around.

It seemed smaller than his quarters but that might have been because there was no window. It was certainly as bare as his had been when he arrived although his was already looking lived in. This room looked immaculate.

Or nearly, he amended as he noticed the rumpled blanket dropped on the floor. But beyond that, it was barren.

Sitting himself on the bunk he looked back to the wolf.

“So why’d ya bring me here?”

Naturally, the wolf gave no obvious reply yet he headed across to the blanket and promptly curled himself up, head on his paws looking at Trip.

Trip stared back, bemused.

“Ya want me to sleep here?”

There wasn’t a flicker of a response and Trip huffed out a breath.

He considered getting up and leaving but wasn’t sure that would be appreciated. He almost opened his mouth to argue that he couldn’t take the man’s bed before realising the werewolf wasn’t using the bed. Trip glanced at the regimental bedding, neatly tucked in, and wondered if he’d ever slept in it.

He glanced back to the stationary wolf.

“Guess I can crash here tonight,” he offered.

Again there was no response.

Trip considered stripping his sweatpants off but decided against it. Instead he pulled back the sheets and settled himself down. He still didn’t feel remotely tired, especially after the weird experience of the mess hall, but he nevertheless dutifully turned out the lights.

Twisting to get comfortable, he realised the faint light from the chronometer was catching in the wolf’s grey eyes. Trip watched them watching him and realised with a slight start that they were the exact same eyes Malcolm had as a man.

Being watched should have freaked him out but instead he found he felt… protected. Guarded.

He watched the wolf back until his own eyes grew heavy and he was lost to sleep.


	4. Building Bridges

Malcolm had been up and dressed already when the Commander awoke.

Or more correctly, when he was briskly awoken and marched back to his own quarters to dress. Reed seemed awfully fidgety about having kept Tucker in his quarters overnight so Trip didn’t press him for an explanation. It was possibly only something to do with his wolf instincts anyway.

Thankfully, Malcolm’s enhanced senses meant no-one saw them as they made the journey, and there could be no perceived impropriety about the lieutenant escorting the new Commander to the mess hall for breakfast.

So the captain’s first words when they arrived for the morning briefing came as something of a shock.

“I gather you didn’t sleep in your quarters last night.”

The captain’s statement clearly demanded an explanation from his chief engineer. Trip made sure to keep his tone casual as he replied.

“Yeah. I kipped down in the lieutenant’s quarters. Weren’t like he was using his bunk anyway.”

Archer arched his eyebrows at Reed.

“Feeling possessive Malcolm?”

Lieutenant Reed met the challenge calmly.

“Protective,” he countered. “The Commander had a bit of a late night run in with Ensign Mayweather.”

All eyes turned to the helmsman who Trip realised was the dark-skinned man he’d encountered last night. The ensign looked apologetic.

“I hadn’t met the Commander before. He smelled… fresh.”

“And this is why I advised you to stay in your room,” the captain admonished as he returned his attention to Trip.

“With all due respect C’ptin, I won’t be much use in an emergency if I have to cower in my rooms overnight.”

“This is precisely why a human is unsuitable for senior office aboard the flagship,” a cool voice interrupted. “They are… susceptible.”

Tucker turned and found his gaze held by a pair of intense dark eyes. Elfin features made the woman seem like a fantasy figure brought to life.

“Don’t seem like it was me with the problem,” he countered evenly before looking over to the zombie. “Sorry Ensign,” he added.

The helmsman shrugged.

“Now I know who you are it should be fine,” he offered.

“Well,” Archer retook control of the conversation. “Let’s make sure everyone’s properly introduced shall we?”

He gestured towards the elfin woman.

“My First Officer T’Pol.”

She inclined her head fractionally and Trip nodded back.

“You’ve clearly already met Ensign Mayweather. And Lieutenant Reed of course. This is Ensign Sato.”

Trip gave a guilty start as he realised he hadn’t noticed the translucent woman hovering nearby.

“And this is Major Hayes.”

Trip’s eyes casually glanced over the sturdy looking man watching them all and then they snapped back onto him.

He had assumed from Malcolm’s comment of ‘fully human’ that Hayes would be normal. It took him a moment to assimilate what he was seeing but then the pieces fell into place.

It was the skin tones that primarily keyed him in.

Unlike the other men, who all wore jumpsuit uniforms, Hayes was wearing a t-shirt. Thus his bare crossed arms were clearly displayed. And clearly not the same skin colour.

Trip’s eyes flashed up to the man’s face and he saw an amused look in a face too pale for either arm and with mismatching eyes.

“Now we all know him,” the captain continued obliviously, “everyone should know he’s off limits.”

He deliberately met everyone’s eyes seeking agreement before diverting the topic back onto the day’s assignments.

Trip kept his own attention firmly focused, not wanting to offend anyone, but he was uncomfortably aware of T’Pol’s attention during the meeting and he was only too glad to flee to the lower decks with Malcolm at the end of it.

As the turbolift doors closed on them he felt himself relax again.

“What’s the deal with Hayes then?” he asked bluntly. “He may be fully human but he ain’t a regular human.”

“You remember the ban on genetic manipulation?” Malcolm queried unnecessarily. “Well, one doctor found a way around it.”

Tucker’s eyebrow’s arched. It was what he might have guessed but still.

“Damn,” he murmured.

“I think you should sleep in my quarters again tonight,” Reed announced suddenly.

“Wha? Why? Not that I mind,” he added at Malcolm’s look, “but why?”

“Didn’t you think it odd the captain knew you hadn’t been in your room last night?” he pointed out. “Plus he was practically warning the rest of us off.”

“Maybe he was just trying to make sure his Chief Engineer didn’t get eaten? Or worse.” He shivered as he remembered T’Pol’s look.

“And that’s another thing. T’Pol didn’t look happy you weren’t drooling over her.” Malcolm eyed him speculatively. “Why weren’t you drooling over her? It looked to me as if she was trying to hypnotise you.”

Tucker shrugged.

“Dunno. Guess previous experience has put me off women for life.”

He was spared further interrogation by the doors opening on engineering level.

“You got a minute to stop by?” Trip asked as he stepped forward, hovering in the doorway while he awaited the lieutenant’s answer. As Reed looked about to decline, Trip added, “I had an idea about diverting feedback from weapons to structural integrity. Should increase the yield.”

That sealed the deal. Malcolm followed him without a complaint and as Trip led the way into engineering he spoke over his shoulder to the armoury officer.

“I was thinking initially ‘bout tying in the cannons directly to the impulse engines ‘cept its risky to be running that much power through there. So it occurred to me – why couldn’t we set up a path for any overflow from weapons to the hull plating? No reason it shouldn’t work that I can see but I’d like your thoughts. After all, you know the weapons better than me.”

Trip finally turned to fully face Malcolm and realised the man was warily tense.

His eyes were flickering about the room and his shoulders had set rigid. It was clear the man was ready for flight or fight but Trip couldn’t for the life of him understand why.

He was about to ask in fact when the answer signalled itself. Quite literally as the sound of a squeaky dog toy echoed round the room followed by a burst of laughter.

The lieutenant’s jaw clenched and Trip thanked their lucky stars the werewolf was under such firm control before he spun about with his own surge of anger.

“Right! Who did that?”

The sound of his challenging demand silenced the crew. He waited a few seconds before realising he wasn’t going to get an answer.

“Ah may not know who did that but I swear if I hear any more cracks ‘bout dogs directed towards Lieutenant Reed then someone will find themselves scrubbing conduits fer a month.”

“It’s just a joke sir,” an unidentifiable voice muttered from the group.

“Well it ain’t very funny,” Trip told them. “I know Commander Kelby encouraged that sort of rivalry but in my engine room I want to see co-operation between our teams. They got a lot of talented people down in the armoury who all know their way around a good deal of basic engineering. The type of people who’d be might handy to have on side when we got a lot of repairs needing doing quickly.”

The implicit promise of extra hands when under pressure had the necessary effect on the crew who became more thoughtful all of a sudden. Trip surveyed them and decided to act on that momentary amenability.

“Now, me and Lieutenant Reed have a plan that’ll boost our weapons power as well as our structural strength. Once we’ve sorted out the details we’ll be getting teams of engineers and armoury officers to work together in getting everythin’ up and running. This works and it’ll be commendations all round. But it won’t work if we can’t pull together. Understood?”

A not entirely unenthusiastic chorus of ‘aye sir’s greeted his query and the people turned back to their tasks.

Trip returned his attention to Malcolm who was looking at him thoughtfully.

“I don’t expect that’ll be the last dog joke I hear,” he commented mildly.

“’spect not,” Trip agreed, “but it’s a start right?”

Malcolm nodded and then smiled.

“So where’s these modifications you had in mind? Better look them over if we’re going to strike while the iron’s hot and build some bridges between engineering and armoury crews.”

Trip picked up the relevant PADD and handed it over, keeping quiet while the other man leant back against the railing and began perusing his suggestions. He found himself unexpectedly pleased at prompting that unguarded smile.


	5. Sparring Partners

Trip Tucker slid off the biobed with an air of relief.

The examination had proceeded quicker than he’d feared yet he was worn out from the incessant questioning of the doctor.

“Quite, quite fascinating,” Phlox continued happily. “I was certain I’d uncover some abnormality to explain your posting. But it seems you’re a completely average human. Wonderful!”

Trip eyed the exuberant physician warily.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Always prided myself on being average.”

Phlox finally seemed to register his meaning had been misconstrued.

“Please don’t think I meant anything insulting Mister Tucker. As an avid watcher of humanity though it’s invaluable to have a normal specimen such as yourself. How else am I to understand the unique qualities of Misters Archer, Mayweather and Reed without a comparison model?”

“Aren’t you forgetting the subordinates? They’re mostly human ain’t they?”

“Indeed, indeed. But in many cases I cannot be sure they’re truly of the same sample level. Why else would they be subordinates if not for an inherent inferiority in their makeup?”

Tucker stared at the demon disbelievingly.

“They aren’t inherently inferior. They’re just less experienced.”

“Really? When one examines the Starfleet records a number of them possess greater age and experience than yourself. Why then do you suggest they are beneath you in rank?”

“Well… I guess there’s a certain flair of inspiration that lets some of us advance quicker.”

“So they lack this quality and are therefore not of the same sample makeup.” Phlox grinned widely at the neat conclusion.

Trip tried to think how he could persuade Phlox that 70 odd members of crew weren’t inherently flawed or some such but was distracted by the sickbay doors opening. He looked up expecting to see Malcolm, who had suggesting meeting him at the end of his physical, but was disappointed to see Major Hayes.

It had the benefit at least of turning Phlox’s attention from him.

“Major. What can I do for you?”

“Just a slight tearing at my shoulder. I’d sort it myself but it’s a bit awkward to reach.” He shrugged in a ‘what can you do?’ gesture.

Phlox sighed and gestured to the biobed alongside Tucker.

“I’ll get my kit.”

As the doctor wandered off, Trip found himself face to face with Hayes. The oddity of the man’s eyes made him uncomfortable. One was such a pale blue while the other was a deep brown and Trip didn’t know where to focus his own gaze so looked away.

He was unsure what to say but could hardly just leave without a word. Besides which he had promised to wait for Malcolm. The lieutenant was still acting rather defensively of him.

“How’d you injure yer shoulder?”

It seemed a reasonable enough question in the circumstances.

“I was doing some training in the gym.” Hayes looked Trip over speculatively. “Which reminds me, I need to run you through your paces and assess your capabilities.”

Trip glanced back.

“Don’t seem like you’re going to be up to that yourself for a bit.”

Hayes’ answer was interrupted by Phlox returning with what, Trip saw to his horror, looked like an old fashioned needle and thread. As the doctor calmly started sewing at Hayes’ shoulder blade, the man continued as though nothing was happening.

“I’ll be fine in a few minutes. Phlox knows to use bonded nylon.”

Trip tried hard not to squirm.

“Can’t Lieutenant Reed do it?”

Hayes grinned broadly.

“With all due respect to the lieutenant, I’m better equipped to handle the hands on side of things.”

A slight cough made Trip turn and he saw the lieutenant in question stood glaring at Hayes.

“Perhaps it would be better for me to put the Commander through his paces. This is the third time you’ve been in here in a fortnight isn’t it?”

“Technically in fifteen days,” Phlox corrected briskly.

The two security officers ignored him completely.

“It wouldn’t be a fair comparison if you test him,” Hayes objected reasonably. “I ran everyone else through the test.”

“You couldn’t have run yourself though,” Trip pointed out. “Did Malcolm do that one?”

Hayes shot him an annoyed look.

“Yes, Lieutenant Reed naturally conducted my own assessment. Unfortunately this means I can’t be certain how I compare to those I tested.”

As Reed bristled, Tucker rushed to say something that might prevent an argument escalating.

“Well why don’t you two have a spar session to test yer strength? Then you’d know how yer compare.”

“That sounds like a very sensible idea.” Malcolm tilted his head. “Major?”

“Absolutely.”

As the man slid off the biobed and faced the British officer, Tucker wished he could stop his mouth running away with him. The disparity in size when they faced each other was quite noticeable. Whoever had put Hayes together had clearly chosen the parts with strength in mind.

His arms might not match in colour but they were both equally well developed. Likewise his chest was muscular and his whole body radiated sturdiness. Even his head looked solid.

Malcolm by comparison looked fragile and Trip felt compelled to try and undo the damage he’d surely caused.

“Now I didn’t mean you two should get into a fight…”

“Perish the thought,” Malcolm assured him swiftly. “A friendly spar session.” His grin did nothing to reassure the commander.

“Of course,” Hayes agreed with a stubborn set to his jaw. “It wouldn’t do to leave any permanent damage.”

Reed bristled at the implied insult but did nothing other than gesture the other man ahead of him.

Trip had just opened his mouth to order the stubborn idiots to stop it when a warm hand grasped his wrist.

“Let them get it out of their systems,” Phlox advised quietly. “Trust me, it’s been coming a long while.”

Trip nodded mutely and the doctor smiled in acknowledgement.

“I shall join you if I may,” Phlox continued in a louder tone before adding, “Asides from the interest value in the competition, it seems highly likely one or other will require my assistance.”

Trip nodded. At least this way it was semi supervised.

They must have looked quite a sight on their brisk journey, he mused. The lieutenant and major keeping pace together, neither wishing to let the other draw ahead, followed by their commanding officer and physician. It was testament to the number of strange things this crew had seen that in fact no-one batted an eyelid.

As they stepped inside the empty gym, both lieutenant and major prepared themselves for exercise while Trip and Phlox made themselves comfortable side by side on the weight bench.

Once stripped to sweatpants and t-shirts though, the two competitors began immediately circling each other, clenched fists raised up.

Hayes made the first move with a jab straight towards Malcolm’s head but it was easily knocked aside. Predictably too if Hayes comment of “Nice forearm block” was anything to go by.

Malcolm immediately countered with his own jab to Hayes which was just as easily blocked.

“Nice back fist,” Hayes added calmly. “Show me the combination.”

The insolent command spurred a rapid response from the lieutenant whose fists punched forward more rapidly than Trip could follow. None landed home though and moments later Hayes tossed Malcolm over his hip to land hard on the unpadded floor.

Trip winced but Malcolm nimbly jumped up as though unbothered.

Hayes too was maintaining his façade of calm.

“Faster on that combination,” he commented as he moved round his tense sparring partner. “You’re improving.”

They circled each other silently. Then Malcolm suddenly kicked out before following it up with a left then right jab. Hayes blocked the left but the right struck home hard.

“You want to keep that left up,” Malcolm told him as Hayes checked his jaw.

The major glared up at the werewolf and the façade of friendly bout was swiftly abandoned. He swung a hard right hook at the lieutenant’s head that if it had connected might have knocked him clean out. Luckily, Malcolm lithely ducked back before blocking another succession of punches.

“That’s it, stay loose. Excellent.”

He kept up the teasing commentary until the major over-swung on a right punch. Then Malcolm ducked down to the man’s left and punched him hard in the side.

“Ha. You’re improving,” Malcolm echoed the earlier mockery with a smile of his own.

Hayes had gone noticeably quiet now but he moved with determined purpose as he leant into the next sequence of blows, forcing Malcolm to retreat until the lieutenant managed to capture one of the swinging arms. He then drove his knee up hard, kicked Hayes’ legs out and drove him down to the ground, still holding the captured arm tightly.

“See, you were looking at my hands when you should have been looking at my eyes,” he hissed venomously.

As Malcolm released Hayes, Trip made to stand assuming they were done. However Phlox gripped his wrist again and shook his head silently. Tucker was about to object when he saw the spar partners squaring off again.

“OK Lieutenant,” Hayes acknowledged.

“Major,” Malcolm replied politely before gesturing the man on.

Hayes changed tactics this time. He kicked up high, forcing Malcolm to lean back to avoid the strike, and followed it with a blindingly fast series of punches keeping him off balance. He then caught Malcolm’s defending arm and used his greater strength to push the man down, pinioning him on the ground.

“Tell me something,” the major hissed.

“What?”

“Why won’t you let me do my job?”

The major’s distraction allowed Malcolm to swing his legs up around the man’s upper body and propel him off. As Malcolm scrambled to his feet, Hayes jumped up and quickly faced him.

“Because you’re here to enhance the combat capacity of this crew. Not take over this pack.”

“So that’s what this is about? You think I want to become alpha male?”

“You just can’t stand taking orders from me, can you?” Malcolm’s eyes blazed as he hurled himself back into the fight.

But he punched low and left himself open to a devastating upper cut that staggered him. He still tried to recover but Hayes was able to land a back fist followed by a high kick that kept him unbalanced.

“I have no problems taking orders from you,” Hayes declared before delivering a powerful roundhouse kick that floored the lieutenant. “After lunar survival training, I can handle just about anything.”

Trip’s stomach clenched as he watched Malcolm wipe the blood up from his bleeding head.

“And just so you know,” Hayes threw back as he made to leave. “This isn’t your pack and you aren’t alpha male. The captain is.”

Trip had stood to go join the beaten lieutenant when he saw the sudden shift. It occurred to him with instant clarity that up ‘til now, the werewolf had in fact been holding back.

“Hayes!”

As the major turned, Malcolm had already launched himself through the air with a growl. The collision brought both men to the ground but Malcolm took advantage of it quicker by driving his elbow into the other man’s face.

He climbed back to his feet and caught sight of Trip staring at him open mouthed. A feral grin broke out across his face before he was blindsided by a punch from his recovered opponent.

The werewolf wasn’t fazed though and swiftly punched back before once again driving his knee home and then rolling the other man over his shoulder to the floor. As they both rose, two sets of hands gripped trapeziums. Malcolm knocked Hayes’ hands apart before bringing his down hard. He then caught the man about his head and swung him with surprising ease over his shoulder to crash down again.

This time Hayes stayed down.

Malcolm bared his teeth and growled softly before turning once again to the commander.

“I believe we’re done here.”

As the werewolf strolled away Trip stared dumbly.

“I better see to the major,” Phlox said amiably. “If you could check the lieutenant doesn’t need any assistance?”

The prompt was all Trip needed and he hurried after Malcolm.

“Feel better fer that?” he commented lightly as they strode towards the crew quarters.

“Mentally? Yes. Physically? I’m feeling a little… tender.”

“I’ll bet,” Trip muttered as he followed the shorter man into his quarters.

“Would you mind if I changed and went straight to bed?”

Trip shook his head and plopped himself down as Malcolm headed into the bathroom. He wondered how he should address the issue. As their commanding officer he felt he should probably make it clear this sort of thing shouldn’t happen again.

A movement caught his eye and he looked up to see a wolf trot out and across to the blanket. It took a second for his brain to catch up but when it did he laughed.

“Guess I should have expected that,” he muttered before reaching for a PADD and settling back on the bunk.


	6. Shifting Quarters

For a moment Trip wasn’t sure what had awoken him and he peered across the dark room to the chronometer. It was still early but probably too late to get back to sleep. Then he heard the sound again.

It was a vague shuffling accompanied by a low, half-bitten back groan.

Sitting up he switched on the lights and stared across at his roommate.

Malcolm was leaning on the wall just outside the bathroom. There was a grimace of pain on his face which he quickly hid as he registered the change in lighting.

“Trip?”

Tucker got himself up and meandered over, keeping his gaze high to protect his friend’s modesty.

“Hurts like a bitch don’t it?” he questioned rather unnecessarily.

He received a half-hearted glare before Malcolm apparently gave it up as a lost cause.

“Its mostly healed,” he offered before taking another step and biting his lip. “Its just… my muscles seemed to have seized up during the night.”

“Uh huh.” Trip surveyed him a moment longer before making his decision. “Well let’s get you into the shower. See if some hot water can’t loosen ‘em up.”

Malcolm nodded and made to move again. This time though Trip moved in and caught his arm around the smaller man’s shoulders.

“I can manage!” Malcolm protested, attempting awkwardly to escape. He proved the lie to his own words as he was unable to twist away.

“Its alright Malcolm,” Trip soothed. “You ain’t got anything I haven’t seen before.”

The other man stilled his strugglings and Trip actually managed to manoeuvre him to the edge of the shower.

“It isn’t that,” Malcolm said quietly. “Being a werewolf you sort of get over any modesty. Its just… I’m not used to having help.”

Trip honestly didn’t know how to respond to that sort of statement and he floundered. Malcolm however just continued his momentum into the cubicle, leaving a flummoxed engineer in his wake.

As the cycle started up, Trip finally found his voice.

“When yer allocation is done I’ll set mine going. Give you a double dose. I can do without today.”

“You don’t have-” Malcolm began before Trip overrode him.

“I insist. An’ if that ain’t enough I’ll make it an order.”

“Aye sir.”

By the time Malcolm came out, he was clearly feeling much better.

His good mood didn’t fail him even as Trip teased him over his breakfast choices but it came crashing down when they arrived at the morning briefing.

“Gentlemen. What’s this I heard about a fight yesterday?”

Both their gazes swept over to Hayes who was looking rather puffy but had his eyes fixed somewhere near his feet.

“It weren’t a fight,” Trip offered. “Just a rather… vigorous spar session.”

“Which left our gamma shift security chief being patched up in sickbay while I daresay you coddled the lieutenant in his quarters.”

Next to Trip, Malcolm stiffened perceptibly.

“Now I don’t care if it was a scheduled spar session,” Archer continued. “It clearly got out of hand and I won’t have that sort of behaviour on my ship. Since you all chose to behave like children then you shall be treated as children. Commander, Lieutenant, you will both be confined to quarters while not on duty for the next twenty four hours. _Separate_ quarters,” he added firmly.

“What about the major?” Trip objected.

Archer cast a distinctly amused glance Hayes way.

“I think the major has been punished enough. Scuttlebutt suggests he lost after all. Oh! And no working on your pet project today.”

Both Trip and Malcolm’s faces fell.

“Which reminds me,” the captain continued cheerfully. “I’ll need a dog sitter tonight. Lieutenant? I’m sure you’ll oblige. And you know how much Porthos likes his walkies with you.”

Malcolm shot an anxious look to Trip but there wasn’t anything he could do.

So a mumbled chorus of agreement met the captain’s instruction and the meeting moved on.

The good mood of the morning had been well and truly lost though.

Trip didn’t even get to see Malcolm over their usual meal breaks, since a fluctuation in the anti matter reactor kept him busy in engineering, and he was left to worry over the coming night time on his own.

The coincidence of Trip being ordered back to his quarters just as the captain conveniently needed a pet sitter hadn’t escaped Trip’s notice. He wondered if he was only picking up on Malcolm’s paranoia, since he hadn’t any actual reason to believe the vampire might be targeting him, but he didn’t especially want to test the theory.

Still he lingered in the mess hall long after he’d finished his meal and the other members of his engineering team had vacated the area and it was only the memory of his late night encounter with Travis that finally prompted him to move. He still dragged his feet all the way to his room.

The pall of gloom that hung over him was forgotten though when he saw T’Pol stationed there. In its place there flickered a flame of annoyance.

“Did the captain send you to make sure I didn’t do a runner?”

She arched an eyebrow at his accusation but otherwise her placid face remained calm.

“No. In fact I came to invite you to my quarters.”

“Your quarters? Why should I go there?”

He thought he detected some flicker in her face but it was so quick he couldn’t be sure.

“I feel it would be beneficial to discuss the captain’s… pattern of choosing associates with you. My quarters would be more secure for such a conversation.”

So, Tucker thought ruefully, it wasn’t just Malcolm being paranoid.

“Won’t the captain be pissed if he finds I disobeyed his order and left mah quarters?”

“In fact the captain did not specify whose quarters you be confined to. Only that they be separate to the lieutenant.”

Trip considered his options. While he didn’t especially want to go anywhere with T’Pol, he was dubious about his ability to fend off the captain. So far Archer was playing by the rules but Trip hadn’t met him overnight and couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t act differently as Mayweather and Reed did.

While the same was also true of T’Pol, Trip thought he stood a better chance of keeping her back. After all, she hadn’t had much affect on him so far and seemed harmless enough at present.

“Alright,” he agreed. “Just give me a minute.”

She waited patiently as he ducked into his room and then led him away to her own quarters. As she unhesitantly led him inside he felt a flash of unease, not helped any by the sound of her door shutting behind him.

He dithered a second until she gestured for him to sit on her bunk.

“Please sit. Then we may talk.”

As she took a seat at her desk he was left with no alternative but to follow her instruction and gingerly sat on the edge of her bunk. Then his unease slammed back full force as she moved from the chair to sit beside him.

“You seem to have formed a quick attachment to Lieutenant Reed,” she spoke without preamble.

“Ah, yeah. Ah always did make friends quickly.”

She nodded as though this was the expected response.

“Phlox also seemed very taken with you.”

“He’s jus’ fascinated a normal human was appointed Chief Engineer.”

“I have wondered about that myself.”

Her dark eyes studied his features intently as though she’d find the answers there. He tried hard not to squirm but he was uncomfortably aware that he was sat, alone, on a bed with a man-hunting demon.

Why had he followed her here again?

Oh yes, he reminded himself, to avoid the vampire that seemed intent on claiming him.

“You have a pleasing form,” T’Pol’s voice brought him back to the here-and-now. “Blond hair and blue eyes are typically cited as attractive human features.”

Trip blushed under her scrutiny.

“Well, ah like to think people like me fer more than mah good looks.”

“Naturally. However given the short time this crew have known you it is logical to assume they are basing their opinion on the visible. The captain certainly hasn’t had the opportunity yet to get to know you yet he clearly wishes to.”

“Guess tha’s mah outgoing personality.”

He shifted as subtly as he could along the bed away from her. She however turned to him thus bringing one of her legs into direct contact with his thigh.

“Would you describe my features as being particularly attractive?”

He pulled further back even as he stumbled over a reply.

“Sure, yer pretty enough. Lots of folk like that elfin look you got going on.”

She nodded, satisfied with this but didn’t let up her attention.

“Then I must conclude I should attempt to be more ‘outgoing’.” She placed a hand deliberately on his knee. “I wish to explore human sexuality. Would you be willing to assist me?”

Trip was up off the bed so fast he caught even T’Pol unawares.

“Now ah’m real flattered but ah’m not interested in any flings with people ah’m gonna be workin’ with fer years.”

T’Pol stood, seeming unruffled by the response.

“Are you aware your accent becomes more pronounced under certain stimulae? Is it a defensive mechanism? Or is it another means of attracting a mate?”

“Excuse me!” Trip barrelled past her, blushing scarlet and needing to escape. He was halfway down the corridor, too startled to even look and see if he was being followed, when a familiar glimmer caught his eye.

“Hoshi!”

The immaterial woman floated back out of the wall and turned to him.

“Trip! I’ve been looking all over for you. Malcolm was worried and asked me to stay with you tonight.”

He grinned in sheer relief.

“That’s good. It means I don’t have t’ pathetically beg ya to sit with me. I only just escaped T’Pol’s clutches!”

“T’Pol?” Hoshi asked as he let them into his quarters.

“Yeah. She came t’ rescue me from the captain’s attentions but then wanted to conduct an experiment in ‘human sexuality’ with me!” He threw himself onto his bunk. “What am I? Some kind of bad luck charm? Ah don’t want to be a demon’s experiment nor turned into a blood sucking vampire like the c’ptin.”

Hoshi hovered by him and stared down in mild amusement.

“The captain isn’t going to turn you. Vampires don’t like having competition.”

Trip frowned as he remembered Malcolm telling him the same thing.

“But he may want me as… ya know… company.”

Hoshi smiled at his blush.

“Sorry to tell you but you aren’t the captain’s type.”

“Then what were Malcolm and T’Pol worried about?”

“I can’t speak for T’Pol – she probably does just want to experiment with you – but Malcolm’s worried you’ll prefer the captain’s company to his.”

Trip sat himself upright again.

“Now why’d he think a thing like that?”

“Because vampires are notoriously charismatic and werewolves… have trouble making friends.”

Trip thought about the shy but generous man he’d met and felt a pang for him. Malcolm had a lot of room in his heart, Trip was sure, and clearly felt protective of those he considered his pack – whether they were cognisant of it or not. He’d already gone out of his way to watch out for a stumbling newcomer and it was suddenly imperative to Trip that the werewolf knew it was appreciated.

“Well,” he declared stubbornly, “he’s got a friend in me.”


	7. Type Casting

“Hey, Malcolm!”

Hoshi floated away with a soft smile as the hollered lieutenant made his way across the messhall.

“Commander,” he offered politely as he took a seat and arranged his plate.

“Less of the Commander, Malcolm. We ain’t on duty yet.”

A half smile pulled at the other man’s lips but he didn’t comment on that.

“Everything alright in your quarters last night?” he asked instead.

“’bout that. I want to thank you fer sending Hoshi. By the time I ran into her I was on the verge of breaking captain’s orders and bolting for your room.”

Malcolm looked alarmed and Trip flushed as he realised he’d have to explain.

“I may have gone with T’Pol back to her room.”

“What? Why on Earth would you do such an idiotic thing?”

“’cause I was scared of the captain turning me into a creature of the night and thought T’Pol was the safer option.”

“Oh. But she didn’t…?”

“She asked if I’d participate in an experiment with her and I turned tail. If ye’ll pardon the expression. That’s when I ran into Hoshi.”

The lieutenant focused his gaze on his plate of pancakes as he spoke.

“I’m sorry if I made you frightened of the captain. I never thought you’d think you need to go to T’Pol for safety.”

“That’s alright. Is it okay for me to crash at yours again tonight though?”

Malcolm’s startled gaze flashed up to him.

“Of course. If you want. But you know you’ll be perfectly safe in your own room.”

“I kinda like sharing with you. Makes me feel safer knowing yer there if I need you.”

“Well I have no objection. The captain might though.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. An’ speaking of the bridge… you ready to go up there now?”

Malcolm gave a curt nod and they strolled together to the standard morning briefing.

This time, Trip tried to analyse his co-workers properly, confident he wasn’t going to be maimed if he looked at one of them wrong.

The two ensigns had very different attitudes to interacting. Hoshi hovered on the side-lines, both physically and mentally, seemingly nervous about putting herself forward or drawing attention. Trip had to wonder if that was a result of her ghostly nature or perhaps something deeper rooted in how she may have been raised.

Travis meanwhile was eager to be heard. He commented readily and often too enthusiastically. Perhaps overcompensating for his reduced night-time capacity, the engineer wondered, as he recalled their initial encounter.

Conversely, Hayes and Malcolm operated in a very similar manner. Both remained alert but emotionally distant from events. Neither commented hastily yet didn’t hold back when they had a thought to share. One difference though was Malcolm’s quips that he seemingly couldn’t resist despite his normal formality. Trip found himself more than once grinning at a witty aside.

His main focus however was on the captain and First Officer.

The captain exuded natural confidence which translated easily into charm. It was easy to see why Malcolm might feel unequal in comparison. But what caught Trip’s attention most was T’Pol’s behaviour.

As First Officer it was naturally her duty to present the crew’s findings to the captain, yet it seemed to Trip that she was extending things occasionally to hold Archer’s interest.

She reported on the results of long range scans that had been conducted overnight. First she mentioned a triple neutrino star system, watching for the captain’s response. He didn’t show much enthusiasm so she reported there was also a planetary nebula which they might investigate. As he again gave only a vague response she brought up yet another report.

“A class nine gas giant,” she suggested.

“Class nine?” Archer finally responded with some curiosity.

“We got gas giants in our own solar system,” Trip drawled. It wasn’t particularly that he cared which phenomena they looked at but he wanted to see whether T’Pol would push for something more unique or side with the captain.

“None that big,” Archer pointed out, clearly more enthused.

“It may present unique data,” T’Pol concurred and Trip had his answer.

“Travis? Set a course.”

With a gesture Archer signalled the end of their meeting and everyone moved off. Trip swung round and intercepted the First Officer before she could stalk off.

“T’Pol? Wondered if you could spare a minute to look over the sensor probes with me. If we’re gonna send them inside a giant that big I could use a scientist’s analysis.”

She inclined her head and fell into step with him towards the turbolift.

As the doors closed she surprised him by speaking first.

“I hope I did not frighten you last night. I confess I had not considered how my proposal might appear to a human new to the crew.”

“Nah, that’s alright. I was a bit freaked at the time I admit but I got it figured now.”

“Figured?”

“You wanted to experiment on how to win the captain’s interest, right?”

She favoured him with a long appraising look.

“You are more perceptive than I gave you credit for,” she commented as she led him towards the cargo bay where the probes were stored. “Yes, I hoped you would advise me on how to appropriately alter my behaviour in order to appeal more to his interest.”

Trip chuckled.

“First lesson? It should never be about changing your behaviour to attract them.”

“That is not logical. If the behaviour in question is off-putting then surely it is beneficial to adapt?”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t try to act your best. If you really like someone… I mean in a long term type way… then you’ll shape up your act. Quit over indulging, keep yourself looking good… things that you always think you should do but never bother until you have the right incentive.”

“Then, since I have incentive, why should I not change my behaviour?”

“Because, if its something long-term yer after, these are changes you’ll need to maintain. It ain’t fair to draw someone in with promises of high class conversation or restrained living if what they’ll be getting is banter and boisterousness.”

“I believe I understand.” She frowned. “But if you do not fit their usual type, then how do you make them see you as a possible partner?”

“Let me ask you something… if their usual type were working for them, why are they still looking for a partner?”

Again she stared hard at him.

“That is oddly insightful.”

Trip turned to open up the probe’s inner working so she wouldn’t see his rather smug smile.

“I’ve been through my share of relationships and if there’s one thing I’ve realised, its that I am just not suited for sweet-smiling, enthusiastic, flirty women. It has always ended in disaster.”

“This may well explain your immunity to me.”

He looked back at her in some confusion, not willing to point out that she hardly fit the typical choice of partner he’d just described. She seemed to understand his query though.

“You are looking away from your habitual type,” she commented. “Which would suggest you are now looking for a sour-smiling, resistant, aloof man.”

Trip couldn’t help but laugh as he turned to look at her.

“I didn’t say it had to be an _opposite_.”

“If you are really experiencing that much difficulty in your choice of partners then perhaps you should.”

“Well, I might just do that,” he commented with amused indulgence. “But we were talking ‘bout you an’ the captain.”

A slight frown marred her brow.

“I am uncertain how to demonstrate to the captain that I would be better suited for him than his usual choice of easy conquest.”

“You want my advice?” he offered as he returned his attention to the circuitry to be reprogrammed. “Best thing you can do is always be there when he needs you. Nothing better for building a relationship than that sort of ingrained level of trust.”

“Your advice is… appreciated. Thank you.”

“Yer welcome. Now what precisely is it we’ll need this probe to scan for?”


	8. Routines and Special Days

After the somewhat awkward start to his assignment, Trip found himself settling easily into the new routine.

Breakfast and then head with Malcolm to the morning briefing before heading off to whatever duties were scheduled. So far they’d not encountered any alien species, or even interesting planets, for Trip to experience – unless you counted the place with the argon atmosphere and resident slugs, which Trip didn’t – so mostly he was focused on improving the warp engine efficiency.

He and Malcolm had completed the phase cannon improvisations and it had gelled the armoury and engineering teams when the first successful test was concluded. It was now quite common for an engineer to head to the armoury to lend a hand and in return the weapons team were offering extra training to Trip’s crew.

The Chief Engineer was frequently seen having lunch or dinner with the Tactical Officer, although their busy departments meant this wasn’t always possible. But Travis and Hoshi made fine substitutes – Hoshi offering an encyclopaedic knowledge of geography, sociology and history and Travis bringing a wicked sense of humour that brought tears to Trip’s eyes. When talking with the ensigns, Trip tried to bring some of the crew in to join them, thus opening the way for new friendships among the humans and paranormals.

Occasionally, he even got invited to eat in the Captain’s mess alongside Archer and T’Pol. While the captain didn’t eat himself, he was a most courteous host and Trip warmed quickly to his quick smile and charm. T’Pol remained somewhat hard to engage with yet she clearly was trying to find common ground with her human companions. Trip found himself happily playing his part in diverting the conversation along helpful lines and discovered that by taking an opposite stance to her, he could prompt Archer into defending her side.

When satisfied that his dinner companions were bonding well enough without his prompting then he’d head back to his quarters for a brief while, essentially to check if he had any mail to answer and to pick up anything he needed, before inevitably joining Malcolm in his room.

Mostly Malcolm was human when he arrived and they’d relax together, idly talking about their days and any ideas that might have cropped up, before the werewolf would excuse himself and then pad back out on four paws. At which point Trip would settle back on the bunk and scroll through new journal articles on his PADD, continuing to comment to Malcolm on interesting developments.

Trip found it more comfortable to sleep in the company of Malcolm. In truth, he’d always found it a bit disconcerting going to sleep without any company about. Growing up in a large and boisterous family meant very little peace and quiet as a youth and that had continued as he’d studied for Starfleet. The few times he’d been roomed alone he’d always felt an almost childish nervousness. It was ridiculous in a grown man but the truth was he liked having other people nearby.

Even if those people happened to be wolves.

Trip wasn’t entirely sure whether Malcolm would mind his continued presence but, since the werewolf had made no objection, he assumed not. And, Trip assured himself, it should assure his friend that he was his friend.

The only downside Trip could see was the fact that Malcolm was an early riser. Not surprising considering he probably couldn’t sleep through the change from wolf to man but Trip wasn’t so sure why that meant he had to wake him so early as well.

“It don’t seem fair,” Trip grumbled. “How come you’re so damned chipper when I know you’ve been up most o’ the night patrolling? Or whatever the hell it is you do?”

“I keep an eye on things,” Malcolm replied swiftly. “And werewolves manage on much less sleep than humans.”

As Trip continued to sit and rub his tired face his friend continued to try and chivvy him along.

“It does you no good to lie about until the last minute Commander. Much better to get a good run into the day.”

Trip bit back his instinctive retort about the werewolf taking himself for a run and was rewarded by a cup of coffee hovering into his line of sight. Satisfied that Trip was finally getting going Malcolm retreated back into the bathroom.

As the computer chimed with an incoming communication, Trip pulled himself to his feet and meandered over.

“Want me to answer?” he called.

“Please. I expect it’s a response about those EM barrier schematics.”

Trip nodded vaguely as he sat and accepted the incoming call. They’d been talking about the seemingly impossible task of creating a stable force field again last night.

“Happy… Oh my!... Hello handsome!”

Trip blinked at the grinning woman on the monitor before him.

“Er… I’m Trip… I mean, Commander Tucker ma’am.”

Tucker swallowed nervously as her eyes darted about studying him very intently.

“Very nice,” she murmured appreciatively.

It suddenly twigged that her accent was remarkably familiar when a matching voice sounded from behind him.

“Madeline! What are you calling for?”

The light blue eyes on the screen lit up in recognition.

“Malcolm! What sort of question is that to ask your sister? I’m calling to wish you a happy birthday of course.”

Trip’s gaze flashed up to the man looking over his shoulder.

“It’s yer birthday?”

A pink blush flushed across the Englishman’s face.

“Don’t tell me,” Madeline’s voice interrupted. “He didn’t tell you. Don’t take it personally. I mean he didn’t even tell his sister he’d got himself such an attractive mate!”

Now it was Trip’s turn to blush violently.

“I…erm… I’m not… I mean, we’re friends.”

“Uh huh.” She smiled in obvious amusement. “Don’t worry. If there’s one thing Reeds know how to do it’s keep a secret.”

Malcolm shoved Trip forcefully in the shoulder.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your shift Commander?”

Trip took the opportunity to escape.

“Nice to meet yer ma’am,” he stuttered before hiding himself in the small bathroom.

He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, and deliberately made sure he made enough noise so that Malcolm would _know_ he wasn’t trying to listen in, but he still caught enough to piece together some interesting snippets of Malcolm’s life.

His sister was clearly fond of him – as he was of her – but his father was another matter. It sounded to Trip like the armoury officer hadn’t spoken to his father in years, although he hoped he was wrong about that. He certainly wasn’t wrong about Malcolm not expecting to hear from anyone about his birthday. It seemed hearing from his sister was more than he’d expected.

By the time Trip re-emerged, looking like a respectable Starfleet officer, the brief call was over and Malcolm was as imperturbable as ever. Trip tried to keep his tone casual rather than accusing as they made their way out to the messhall.

“How come you didn’t say it was yer birthday?”

Malcolm shrugged, clearly unconcerned.

“It’s never been that big a deal. I hadn’t even remembered myself.”

“Your sister – Madeline? – clearly thought it was worth bothering with.”

“Madeline’s always been rather… attached.”

“Do you ‘spect your folks will be in touch?”

“No.”

The short, sharp answer startled Trip and he forgot all about treading carefully.

“Why not? Why wouldn’t your parents be just as ‘attached’ as your sister?”

Malcolm shot him a sideways glare as they entered the turbolift but he couldn’t escape the man here and Trip just glared right back.

“Because in werewolf packs, sons are expected to go out at maturity and start their own clan. I… didn’t. I joined Starfleet. Accepted a subordinate role to a _vampire_. My father won’t even acknowledge my existence let alone my birthday.”

“Must have taken some guts,” Trip suggested, unsure what to say to that. “T’ break tradition,” he added in explanation when Malcolm looked at him askance.

Malcolm huffed.

“I wanted to come out here. Explore new territory. Help put Earth on the interstellar map. More like selfishness than bravery.”

Malcolm stalked out of the lift and a couple of waiting ensigns jumped aside at his glowering look.

“Hell,” Trip exclaimed, easily keeping pace, “if that’s your idea of selfishness then the whole crew’s the biggest bunch of self-centred jerks to ever breathe!”

Malcolm looked at him in surprise and Trip pressed his advantage.

“You think you’re the only one wanting to push boundaries? To be the first to step on an alien planet? To finally coax a warp engine to warp 5?” He grinned crookedly. “Mal, most people on Earth _dream_ of doing what we’re doing. And in most cases the only thing that really separates us is that we all had the will and drive to push for that dream.

“Now I know I was encouraged by my family… and from what the captain’s said I know he was guided by his father… and Travis was pretty much raised to be out here… but you! To face the challenges every competitor had to get assigned as well as the scepticism of your family…” Trip shook his head in amazement. “I’m telling you. That takes courage.”

Malcolm was stood staring at him, seemingly unaware that they were now presenting an obstacle to crew heading to and from the messhall.

“You really think that?” he asked at last.

Trip smiled at him.

“I thought you were brave before Mal. Now I know you’re the bravest person I ever met.”

A pink blush stole across the armoury officer’s cheeks, just visible before he ducked his head.

“Thank you Trip,” he offered with a hoarse cough before turning and continuing their journey to breakfast. “Do you know, I think that’s the nicest birthday present I ever received?”

Tucker couldn’t hold back his grin.

“Just you wait ‘til next year,” he promised.


	9. Morale Boost

“Trip!” The captain’s cheerful voice stopped Tucker mid stride down the corridor and he waited for the other man to catch up. “You have a minute?”

“I got several, if you don’t mind the walk to engineering.”

Archer grinned and Tucker found himself responding in kind, no longer bothered by the prominent display of teeth on the man fast becoming a friend.

“Not at all. Porthos wanted a walk anyway. I wanted to sound you out about something.”

“This those test’s Reed asked you about? ‘cause even if it does damage some bulkheads I think the-”

“No,” Archer interrupted with an amused smile. “It’s nothing to do with any of your projects. Not directly at least.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve noticed a difference in the crew since you joined us. There’s less hostility between the armoury and engineering teams. The lieutenant seems more relaxed, less bite… I even heard that he and Hayes exchanged a civil word the other evening.”

“Well,” Trip drawled, “you can’t believe everything you hear.”

The vampire laughed.

“Still,” he continued, “you certainly seem to have had a positive impact on the morale about the place and I was thinking of formalizing that somehow.”

“Formalizing it? What’s that entail?”

“Traditionally, one of the roles of First Officer is to monitor and maintain the emotional wellbeing of the crew. However T’Pol, for all her many fine qualities-”

“And she has a few prominent fine qualities,” Trip pointed out as seriously as he could. Archer eyed him speculatively before continuing.

“For all her fine qualities, she still doesn’t entirely understand the human mindset.”

“That’s probably true,” Tucker agreed, thinking of her futile attempts to express interest in the captain.

“So I was going to offer to transfer her duties as morale officer to you. What do you think?”

Trip frowned.

“You asked her about this?”

“Yes. She’s perfectly willing to let you take over those responsibilities.”

“Well… I don’t object in principle but can I talk it over with Malcolm first?”

The vampire arched a surprised eyebrow but acquiesced at once. “Of course. Let me know when you’ve made a decision.”

Calling Porthos to heel, the captain gave him a final wave and left him to continue down to engineering.

Trip let the idea hover in the back of his mind throughout the day and was surprised to realise how enthusiastic he felt about it. When the captain had initially suggested it, his first thought had been to panic about being made responsible for the human crew serving under their inhuman senior staff.

But as he worked, he recognised that it was actually more of an issue the other way. All the people he worked with were loyal to the misfits that led them. They were in fact quite protective and fond of them. It was the senior staff who felt out of place and unsure in the company of the crew.

He felt a happy anticipation when he focused on working to integrate the command team because his thoughts immediately went to Malcolm. All the others made an effort to relate to the humans under their command. Even T’Pol in her way.

But Malcolm… Malcolm was either aloof from everyone around him in terms of poise and professionalism or a shy wallflower, feeling less human than the others because he was literally only human half the time or, if he was being literal, two thirds.

Which propelled him back into being the best officer he could be, to try and cover his own perceived social inadequacies.

Malcolm just tried _so_ hard, Trip wanted to shake him and tell him to for once relax.

It was that thought that truly decided Trip to accept the captain’s proposition but he still resolved to ask his friend’s opinion. Thus, with pretty much no preamble, he dropped himself beside Malcolm in the messhall and said,

“The captain’s asked me to be morale officer. What d’ya think about having a movie night?”

Malcolm blinked and swallowed his mouthful of what Trip thought might be sea bass.

“I beg your pardon?”

Trip took a second to refocus and tried again.

“The captain suggested I take over the role of morale officer from T’Pol, since she hasn’t exactly got a handle on it, and I thought a good idea might be to initiate a movie night for the crew. What do you think?”

“About you being morale officer or movie night?”

“Movie night. Unless you have an objection to me being in charge of morale.”

“Not at all. I think it’s a very sensible choice. As the most senior human on board you’re the obvious candidate to monitor the welfare of the others.”

“Malcolm. It don’t matter that I’m human. I mean you don’t complain about Phlox being in charge of their health do you?” As Malcolm opened his mouth to comment Trip pushed on, knowing that was a dodgy topic with the werewolf. “The crew certainly aren’t bothered ‘bout serving under you lot. I mean look at your team. They’d walk through fire for you.”

“They’re good personnel,” Malcolm agreed. “Dedicated to their work.”

“They’re dedicated to _you_ ,” Trip countered forcefully. “If you weren’t so sensitive you’d see that.”

An idea struck him as Malcolm continued to look dubious.

“If they were just dedicated to their duty then they wouldn’t all side with you over Hayes now would they?”

“They prefer me to Hayes?”

The open surprise twisted something inside Trip.

“You know how they call him the MACO?”

Malcolm nodded.

“Yes. Military Assault Command Officer.”

“Or, as Hess confided to me, the man augmented by composite organs.”

Malcolm stared and then snorted as he tried not to laugh. Trip leant back with a satisfied air as he watched the amusement dance in his friend’s eyes.

“Lord, I’m not going to be able to look at him the same way again.”

“Yeah well he could do with getting down off his high horse.”

As Malcolm recovered his composure and returned his attention to dinner, Trip brought the conversation back on track.

“So? What do you think about a movie night?”

The Englishman gave this due consideration.

“What films would you show?”

“Have to be older films,” Trip huffed. “Copyright extends 75 years for movies so we’re looking before 2075.”

“I don’t know much about films I’m afraid.”

Trip leaned forward enthusiastically.

“There were some great movies made back then. Even back in the 20th and 19th century. The Bride of Chaotica, Apache Serenade, The Day the Earth Stood Still, Escape From Dodge City, The Planet of the Undead…” he stammered to an embarrassed stop but Malcolm was laughing.

“I haven’t heard of any of them!”

“Really?” Trip grinned. “Then we gotta start a movie night. If only to educate yer.”

“Anything that features explosions?”

“Are you kidding? The original Independence Day is hard to beat.”

“Perhaps that could be our first choice then?”

Trip grinned widely.

“Our first choice it is.”

He tried to ignore the pleasure he felt at the word ‘our’ but the happy feeling stuck with him, making him positively bounce with excitement as he began preparations for their inaugural movie event.

Chef was willing to clear the messhall Monday night and even seemed enthusiastic about providing a variety of snacks for the occasion, despite Trip’s protest that popcorn would be fine. Travis was happy to lend a hand setting up and Trip’s own team took charge of wiring up a big screen with surround sound system.

The amount of interest in seeing such an old film surprised Trip and Monday night found a wide selection of crew coming together to mingle and joke. He watched the gathering with satisfaction but his face lit up when he recognised the familiar hesitant form of his friend in the doorway.

“Malcolm! Saved yer a seat.”

The Englishman smiled and threaded his way across to sit beside the grinning engineer.

“Thanks. And thanks for scheduling it early.”

“No problem. It suits most folks better this way. Doesn’t interfere with either alpha or gamma shifts.” He kept his tone light, not wanting Reed to know he had really been thinking of making sure the movie would be done in good time for the werewolf.

The lights went down on them and everyone lost themselves in 20th century visions of alien invasions for a couple of hours.

When it finally ended, Trip found himself the centre of a crowd of enthusiastic crew all wanting to offer thanks and find out if it was going to be a regular thing. Eventually, after many reassurances, that yes it would be a regular thing, and no it wouldn’t all be old sci-fi, he was finally able to escape the room. To his pleasant surprise he found Lieutenant Reed had waited for him and they fell into step heading back towards their shared quarters.

Trip wasn’t sure what spurred the thought.

Perhaps it had been the sight of Malcom in civvies for once. Not just sweatpants and workout vest but pale blue shirt with soft grey jacket over dark pants that brought out his natural colouring to perfection.

Or it could have been the easy way he shared his popcorn with the engineer. Not objecting once as Trip shamelessly stole his snack.

Maybe it had been the way those blue eyes of his had lit up as the explosions rocked the screen.

Trip suspected though it might have been the way the werewolf became so emotionally invested in the _dog_ of all things – though he knew better than to bring that up – but whatever it was, something prompted him to look across at the happy relaxed chattering Malcolm and think, _‘Best first date ever.’_

He immediately stumbled as his brain caught up with him.

“You alright?” The lieutenant looked at him in concern. And it was the _lieutenant_ , Trip realised with a pang.

He smiled reassuringly.

“I’m good, just more tired than I thought I guess.”

Malcolm accepted that with a nod.

“It is getting late,” he conceded as he typed in the door code.

Trip kept quiet and let Malcolm retreat to the privacy of the bathroom, glad for once that conversation would be cut short. He didn’t entirely trust himself not to say something stupid.

He fell into their usual habit as the wolf settled to watching him and firmly banished any unwarranted thoughts while he performed his nightly routines. When he put out the lights and laid back though, he couldn’t ignore his sudden questioning consciousness.

He had no clue when he’d started viewing Malcolm as more than a friend but he couldn’t now deny that he considered the other man with definite potential. But that didn’t mean Malcolm thought of him the same way.

Trip rolled so he could look towards those illuminated eyes watching him.

Did Malcolm even like guys that way? Hell, did werewolves even ever consider humans as lovers? Trip let his eyes shut as his thoughts tumbled over themselves. He simply couldn’t read the lieutenant’s signals with any certainty.

Malcolm was protective of him, sure, but was that just a pack thing? And he seemed happy to keep company together but again was that just because he was pining for a familiar atmosphere as Trip had done on leaving his own large family?

Normally no Tucker would shy away from facing the situation head on and just outright asking but this situation was pretty unique. Not only was there the outside risk of angering a werewolf, but the more serious concern of driving Malcolm back inside his lieutenant’s protective shell. Trip didn’t think he could deal with that reaction.

He heard the sound of Malcolm’s paws padding across the room before the soft swish of the door announced the werewolf had left to prowl the corridors. Trip let out a sigh and stared up at the ceiling. He was just going to have to do what no Tucker had ever done and bury his feelings until such time as he could be sure of the response.

With that somewhat anxious thought, Trip finally managed to slip into slumber.


	10. Away Mission

Captain Archer was grinning broadly when they arrived at the morning briefing.

“Gentlemen. T’Pol informs me she’s found something interesting on our scanners.”

Trip spared a glance to the First Officer, wondering just what she classified as ‘interesting’. However her expression gave nothing away.

Archer pressed a button and a blue-green planet appeared on the screen. “A Minshara class planet,” he announced. “With 500 million lifesigns.”

Trip couldn’t stop his own grin.

“Wow. Can’t wait to get down there.”

“I would not advise that,” T’Pol cautioned immediately.

“Nonsense,” Archer instantly countered. “This is the whole reason we came out here. To see what other species are like. To find out if they’re at all like us.”

T’Pol arched an eyebrow at him.

“We can acquire that information from our scanners. This civilization is pre-industrial. They will not understand those like us.”

“Hoshi?” Archer turned to their Communications Officer. “Can you zoom in on a city? Get a close up on these aliens?”

The ghost deftly ran her hands through her console, tripping circuits until the monitor was frozen on a close-up of an alien similar enough to human.

“A few facial markings,” Malcolm commented. “Phlox could probably match them.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Archer turned to smile again at T’Pol. “Starfleet could have sent a probe out here. They sent us so we could explore with our own senses.”

T’Pol subsided and Trip wondered if it was from the captain’s reasoning or his charming smile.

Getting no further argument from his First Officer, the captain turned back to the others.

“Trip? Reed? Head down to sickbay. See if Phlox can’t work his magic on you.”

As they headed back to the turbolift, Trip couldn’t restrain his grin.

“I don’t know what you’re so excited about,” Reed commented.

“Aw, come on Malcolm! A whole new alien species! An’ we’ll be the first humans to encounter them face t’ face.”

“Indeed. And if we’re very lucky we’ll be able to return to the ship with our faces intact.”

“Well ain’t you a bundle of joy today.”

Malcolm gave the engineer a calculating look.

“You know I was brought up in England?” he spoke abruptly and Trip took a second to follow the non-sequitor.

“Yeah. Yer accent kinda gave it away,” he drawled. Malcolm shot him another look but let the teasing remark pass to continue his point.

“My parents now live in Malaysia. Do you know why?”

Trip mutely shook his head, getting a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Because some bloody livestock got killed locally and the entire village blamed my family – no matter that we’d lived there peacefully for centuries.” He turned to meet Trip’s eyes. “My point Commander, is that it only takes one misunderstanding for every inbred prejudice to come to the surface.”

Before the lieutenant could about turn and march into sickbay, Trip caught his arm.

“Maybe so. But how d’you know these people aren’t all shapeshifters huh?”

Malcolm twisted his arm out of Trip’s grasp.

“I gave up that sort of wishful thinking in my teens Commander.”

Trip sighed to himself as the lieutenant left him standing.

He understood why the werewolf was so wary – in his place Trip was pretty sure he’d be much the same – yet more than ever he wanted to show his friend that good things could happen… even to werewolves.

Still, he let the matter drop as he followed Malcolm in and settled himself to wait his turn. Not half an hour passed, and Trip had switched places with Malcolm, when T’Pol and the captain came in.

“Slight change of plans,” Archer announced. “We’ll be coming too.”

“Problem?” Reed queried, his frown emphasising the new ridges either side of his forehead.

“I detected neutrino emissions from a city on the Eastern continent,” T’Pol replied mildly.

“Neutrino emission?” Trip echoed. “Like from an anti-matter reactor?”

Phlox tapped him sharply with his makeup brush to caution the engineer to sit still.

“Possibly,” T’Pol conceded. “If so, the technology is far beyond the capabilities of the Akali.”

“So you suspect other alien involvement?” Malcolm surmised.

“We couldn’t detect any non-indigenous biosigns,” Archer explained, “but at this range we can’t be certain.”

“All done Commander.” Phlox shooed him off the table but as Trip automatically reached up to scratch the itchy new prosthetics the doctor slapped him sharply with the brush again.

“Leave,” he told him firmly.

Malcolm smirked at him and Trip decided it was time to pull rank.

“You heard the captain, Lieutenant. We have a new mission. Better requisition some scanners, communicators an’ anything else we may need.”

“No firearms!” Archer cautioned as the two men left on their respective duties.

It was within an hour that they all found themselves ensconced in a shuttle heading for the surface.

Despite the added solemnity of the unexplained radiation, Trip couldn’t restrain his enthusiasm for his first away mission. More than once he caught Malcolm glancing at him with what looked suspiciously like amused exasperation.

However everything changed when they descended through the atmosphere and actually landed. The captain and T’Pol disembarked without hesitation but Trip noticed Malcolm wasn’t bounding after them.

Instead he was standing in the shuttle hatchway, staring.

“Something wrong?” Trip asked quietly.

Malcolm turned to him and Tucker’s breath caught at the wide eyed wonder on his face.

“It’s night time,” Malcolm answered reverently.

It took Trip a moment before comprehension dawned – how often had it been possible for the werewolf to stare at a night sky through human eyes?

Trip kept quiet and simply rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder while the smaller man took in the sight. If he had his way, he’d make sure every future away mission let his friend sample the beauty of a night sky.

All too soon though, Lieutenant Reed was back on duty.

“Commander, Lieutenant, you two start from that side and work your way towards the center. T’Pol and I will head in from the other side and meet you there. Comm if you find anything.”

With brief nods, the two teams split up.

As the two friends entered the city, Trip caught Malcolm inhaling deeply.

“Anything?” he asked softly.

Malcolm frowned but shook his head.

“Its hard to tell. I have no idea what’s normal for round here.”

Trip nodded his understanding and drew out his scanner. The neutrino particles registered lightly but not seemingly nearby. Tucking it away carefully, they moved on into the dark streets.

Every few turnings they’d pause and Trip would again check the readout, proceeding to guide them in the direction the emissions were strongest.

After several such stops, Malcolm tapped his arm to get his attention.

“I’m pretty sure there’s something wrong with a number of these people,” he whispered, indicating a few huddled groups. “They have a distinctive odour the others lack and skin discolouration.”

Trip glanced round.

“Wonder if its related ‘cause we’re near the source now.”

He guided Malcolm on down a few more alleyways until he checked the scanner at another corner and abruptly turned them back.

“It’s down here,” he muttered. “They’re coming from… this place.”

They both looked up to find they’d stopped in front of a rather ordinary looking curio shop. Malcolm glanced it over before wandering up and trying the door.

“I expect the captain or T’Pol could break it open,” he offered.

Trip joined him and glanced at the lock.

“Reckon I could pick it. Be less suspicious. You keep an eye out.”

As Trip bent down and pulled out his hyperspanner, he heard Malcolm open his communicator.

“Captain? We found the source of the emissions. We’re going to take a closer look.”

_“We’ll be right there.”_

A tense silence fell as Trip worked before a small snick indicated the lock mechanism giving and they quickly slipped inside.

Malcolm immediately inhaled deeply.

“This is the place alright.” He led Trip unerringly to a door to the back of the shop. “And it smells distinctly different to the general populace smell out there.”

“Another alien?”

“I think so,” Malcolm agreed as he stepped forward to check through the small doorway.

A flash of blue knocked him backwards and he let out a low growl.

“What the hell?” Trip muttered, instinctively supporting the other man, before extending a couple of fingers forward to test the reaction. As they experienced a similar tingle he swore softly.

“Some sort of magnetic barrier.”

“Can you disable it?”

Trip was about to respond when a new voice interrupted from behind them.

“I don’t think I’ll give you the opportunity.”

The men spun around to find a man levelling a weapon at them.

“Breaking and entering is a serious offense. I should report you straight to the officials.”

Malcolm’s posture straightened as he glared.

“But you won’t,” he retaliated, “because you want to know how much we know.”

“I could just kill you both. No-one would blame me in defence of my livelihood.”

“Then you wouldn’t know who we’re working with. Which interstellar authority is interested in your anti-matter reactor.”

The gun lowered fractionally but not enough.

“You aren’t Akali,” the man concluded.

“Neither are you,” Malcolm retorted.

The man grinned at them.

“Quite correct. On every count. And while I do indeed want to know who sent you to investigate, I don’t have time for that now. So you two will have to wait.

He sidestepped to his desk and opened a small drawer. Moments later a hiss indicated the magnetic barrier switching off.

“After you gentlemen.”

Trip glanced at Malcolm who gave him a relaxed look before stepping through to the area beyond. Trip glanced once more at their host before following. Almost immediately he heard the barrier reactivate. Without any option, he followed Malcolm into the room beyond and stopped in surprise.

The reactor centrally was no surprise, but the window looking out onto some sort of mining operation was unexpected.

“Right under their noses,” he muttered.

Malcolm was stalking round the perimeter, less interested in the engineering marvel and more on their current situation.

“Well, it seems we’re stuck here for now but at least the captain knows where we are.”

He scratched awkwardly at his palms before examining them closely.

“Still sting?” Trip asked him.

“No,” Malcolm replied cautiously. “Just…tingles I suppose.” He looked across with a hint of slight apprehension. “Any chance you can deactivate the barrier from in here?”

Trip glanced about at the various screens and shrugged.

“Probably. Might take me a while to decode the language though.”

“I suggest you make a start Commander.” Malcolm’s voice was taut and Trip cast him a concerned frown.

“Somethin’ the matter?”

“Unless I’m very much mistaken… that little shock to the system is prompting my change.”

Malcolm wasn’t looking at him and Trip frowned in even more concern.

“That ain’t a problem though is it? I mean you change every night while I’m in your room.”

Malcolm flashed him an annoyed look.

“Yes, but not in your _sight._ And how do you think our host will react if he returns and finds a wolf in here?”

Trip opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by Malcolm.

“Please Trip?”

He might have resisted either the use of his nickname, or the plea, but his weak heart couldn’t stand both.

Instead he forced himself to ignore Malcolm pacing by the doorway and began looking in earnest for the barrier control mechanism.


	11. Letting It Out

Trip hadn’t wanted to visit sickbay on their return but the prosthetics wouldn’t be coming off without Phlox’s attention so he submitted.

Malcolm had disappeared the moment he’d been released from the shuttle, the prosthetics long since shaken off by the rapid growth of fur, and Trip had recognised the futility of giving chase despite desperately wanting to.

He sighed. Everything had just gone plain wrong on that mission and he was sorely tempted to blame T’Pol and the captain for a share of it. If they had come directly to their subordinate’s location then the pair could have been freed before the werewolf’s change.

Malcolm had been desperate for Trip not to see him going through that but there wasn’t much either of them could do about it. The werewolf had held it off as long as possible while Trip had pressed and prodded every likely looking button, eventually only succeeding in sealing more doors and setting off an alarm.

And then it had happened.

As soon as he’d realised, Trip had wanted to look away for his friend’s sake but he just couldn’t. From that first unmistakable sound of snapping bone he had been struck with the sort of horrified fascination that was overpowering.

It wasn’t the distortion and transformation that was twisting him up inside now though. No, the thing that Trip Tucker knew would haunt him most was the expression of pain on Malcolm’s face.

Afterwards, the wolf had scrabbled at the door in an animalistic way that Trip hadn’t observed in him before. Automatically he’d approached to offer help but then Malcolm had turned to growl and Trip had understood.

Malcolm wasn’t trying to escape the room. He was trying to escape _him_.

The knowledge hurt, then and now.

By the time Archer and T’Pol finally got them out, the atmosphere was horrible. Malcolm had run off, thankfully for the shuttle, leaving the humans to make their own way there. The fact he’d effectively abandoned his post showed how mortified he was feeling and Trip was only glad neither Archer nor T’Pol commented on it.

The captain had explained about following couriers and something about the water supply being contaminated – and Trip heard him order the transport of the reactor – but his mind was fixated on his friend.

Would Malcolm still let him share his quarters? It seemed unthinkable that the insecure werewolf would be as relaxed in his company again but the idea that Malcolm might even withdraw his friendship _hurt_.

As Phlox gestured he was free to go, Trip made a beeline straight for Malcolm’s quarters – which he truthfully thought of as their quarters – and hoped to find the wolf curled up on his usual blanket.

It wasn’t really a surprise to see the space empty.

The engineer dropped down onto the bed and wondered if he should go back to his own room, give Malcolm some space, but that didn’t seem like a good idea. Trip had the distinct impression that if he let him Malcolm would shut himself off from him most effectively and Trip wasn’t about to let that happen.

The idea of _not_ seeing the man every morning was inconceivable. The possibility of going an entire day without a sight of the dark haired Englishman was frankly shocking.

“Dammit,” he muttered to himself.

Tuckers were renowned for thundering in where angels feared to tread and followed their hearts without any input from their heads. And he was no exception it seemed. All the ideas he’d had about ignoring his feelings were shown up as the nonsense they were as he realised he was well and truly head over heels already.

Which seemingly left him one option. He was going to corner the wily wolf just as soon as he was human again and make him understand.

Thus resolved, Tucker got himself ready for bed.

There was just one detail he overlooked.

Every morning thus far, he’d been woken by Malcolm… so he never even thought to set the alarm. He was lucky in that his concerns over their future relationship kept waking him at odd hours so he didn’t oversleep too badly. But still he was not fully relaxed or fully rested when he rather breathlessly arrived in the messhall.

Grabbing some food, and breathing a sigh that he wasn’t actually running late yet, he had almost taken a seat when something caught his eye.

No, not something. _Someone_.

Deftly switching directions, Trip bore down on the lieutenant trying to hide in the corner.

“Mornin’,” he greeted cheerfully.

Malcolm had frozen on realising he’d been spotted and only nodded briefly in response.

“So,” Trip hesitated, partly wanting to just confess himself but recognising that might not be best while Malcolm was still defensive. “Feeling better?” he asked instead.

“Better?”

“From,” Trip gestured vaguely, “everythin’.”

“My health is fine, thank you.”

Trip stared at him.

“I meant from me seeing you change.”

The werewolf tensed up and averted his eyes.

“I should think that would be rather more upsetting to you than to me Commander.”

“Yeah, you would think that wouldn’t you?” Trip agreed casually. “Yet you’re the one who seemed bothered.”

The icy glare came back to rest on Trip.

“I have seen the change. I grew up in a pack remember? I know how… distasteful it is.”

That made Trip frown.

“Is that what you think? That I’ll be disgusted seeing you change?”

“Aren’t you?” Malcolm challenged harshly.

“I’ll admit it wasn’t nice to watch,” Trip acknowledged, “but I don’t think you understand quite _why_ I didn’t like to see it.”

Malcolm snorted.

“I think that’s quite obvious Commander.”

“Is it?” Trip snapped. “Well what about if I tell you its because it looked like it _hurt_ you. Because I knew how desperately you didn’t want me to see. Because I knew you thought you’d lose my friendship.”

Malcolm watched him with guarded apprehension and Trip decided to seize the moment.

“Malcolm, you’re not going to lose my friendship that easily. In fact I can’t think of a single thing you might conceivably do that could drive me away. I don’t ever want to lose you either you see. I’m… well… I guess I’ve fallen for you.”

Trip stared at those confused stormy eyes and willed the other man to believe him.

Suddenly though, Malcolm was moving.

Trip turned and tried to catch his arm before he got past him but the lieutenant was too quick. Standing, Tucker panicked.

“You can’t just walk away when someone says they love you!”

He winced as he registered the sudden hush and saw Malcolm freeze in the centre of the room. Every eye in the place seemed to be on the spectacle they were creating and Trip struggled for something to fix the mess he’d just made.

“Uh, so I’d appreciate you comin’ back here and helpin’ me work out what I should do.”

It wasn’t much of a save but it was the best he could manage. He shifted awkwardly under the scrutiny but met Malcolm’s eyes as the lieutenant glanced back at him. The werewolf’s posture straightened and with great relief Trip saw him turn back towards him.

“I suppose someone has to help you,” Malcolm declared, almost marching back to the table.

As they retook their seats, the noise in the mess gradually began to increase.

“Ah’m sorry Malcolm. I shouldn’t have shouted it out like that.”

Reed was eying him thoughtfully.

“Did you mean it though?”

“Every word,” Trip swore, holding eye contact to emphasise how serious he was. Malcolm held his gaze, studying his eyes intently for any sign of subterfuge. Trip nearly whooped when he saw that piercing gaze soften.

“You have no idea what you’re even suggesting,” Malcolm objected, but it was a soft objection.

“Seems to me I understand better than most,” he suggested but Malcolm shook his head.

“Trip… wolves mate for life. Werewolves do too. We don’t do casual flings. When we find a mate, we imprint on them. I’d never be able to let you go.”

Malcolm sounded apologetic.

Trip wanted to insist that he didn’t mind – that it sounded perfect in fact – but he knew he had to be practical for once. He had to take this seriously and think about what Malcolm was saying.

And what he was implying.

“Malcolm?” he asked hesitantly. “Have you… done this before?”

“I’m not a complete novice,” Malcolm huffed before lowering his eyes awkwardly. “Its just that… well, I never saw the point in wasting everyone’s time on starting a relationship that clearly wasn’t going to go anywhere.”

Trip tried not to show the raw pity he felt in his eyes. To go into every meeting with such an expectation of failure though…

“An’ what about me? Do you really think we wouldn’t be worth the time? ‘cause I don’t. I think it’d be so worth it.”

Malcolm looked at him speculatively.

“You’ll change your mind,” he answered softly.

It was not, Trip noted, a comment that he didn’t think they’d be worth it and Trip risked catching hold of the werewolf’s hands.

“Ah won’t,” he insisted, hurt to see the sad scepticism still in Malcolm’s eyes. “Ah didn’t mean to pressure you Malcolm. If you need time then ah’m willing to go as slow as you like.”

“It’s not about me needing time Trip. I simply can’t ask you to make that sort of commitment.”

“An’ why not? Seems to me it should be my choice ‘bout whether I want to commit or not.”

“Because,” Malcolm snapped, “I can’t ask you to bind your life to a werewolf like me!”

Trip wanted very much to grab the other man and hug him but knew that wouldn’t be welcomed.

“Malcolm… You have to stop thinking of yourself as a label. Whether you’re a wolf, werewolf, human or anything else don’t matter. You’re _you_. An’ I love you.”

Trip found it was getting easier and easier to say those words. Which was just as well because Malcolm still didn’t look like he believed him.

“We’ll not say anything more about it for a while, okay?” Trip relented. “An’ then you can ask me if I still feel the same in, I dunno, a few weeks or somethin’?”

Across the table, Malcolm stared at him contemplatively before finally nodding. Trip grinned.

“Can we still share quarters though?” he asked the werewolf.

Malcolm shrugged, giving a very good impression of casual.

“As long as you want to.”

“Right.” Trip resisted the urge to kiss the fingers still clasped in his and instead let the other man go. “Guess we better get up to the meeting room. Somebody let me oversleep this mornin’.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes as he rose from the table.

“I am not your alarm clock,” he sniped, moving gracefully past the engineer.

Behind him Trip only grinned again, looking forward to being woken by his dark-haired lieutenant once again tomorrow.


	12. Desert Crossing

Trip was true to his word over the following weeks. Although he continued to stay in Malcolm’s quarters, and made sure they spent a good deal of their time together, he never made suggestion of his feelings.

Malcolm seemed to occasionally watch him curiously and when Trip caught him looking he’d offer him a lazy smile in acknowledgement. But the werewolf seemed intent on keeping the ceasefire.

Trip was almost certain Malcolm felt the same for him. From the possessive stance he’d noticed the lieutenant assume around him, to his general willingness to relax with him, it seemed clear to Tucker that the other man wasn’t immune to the Tucker charm.

However Trip wasn’t sure how to get him to admit it.

He knew that if he brought the topic up Malcolm would only act defensive again. And after all he’d suggested Reed should take his time and be the one to take the next step so he didn’t think it would be fair to push the man. Yet he had rather assumed Reed would have cracked by now.

It was another difference he’d noticed between them – Reed had the patience of an ambush predator where Tucker had the impatience of a two year old. These differences only served to further convince Trip they’d be good together, each bringing their own uniqueness to a partnership bound by similar life goals.

And they did have similar aspirations he realised. Both had the spirit to want to tread new paths, as was evidenced by their presence in Starfleet. Both were dedicated to those close to them, either family by choice or by birth. They each had a sense of responsibility and pride in their work.

And Trip had discovered they shared a sense of humour – broad in his case and cutting sharp in Malcolm’s. They entertained each other through long shifts conducting routine maintenance and often as not through somewhat dull diplomacy briefings.

But Trip was beginning to feel frustrated with Malcolm’s resistance and it was with a genuine sense of good cheer that Tucker agreed to accept a grateful alien’s offer of hospitality with his captain. Perhaps some time apart was actually what they needed for Malcolm to take stock and acknowledge he wanted Trip too.

The visit to Zobral’s home had been going well, Trip thought. They’d been fed royally before being invited to join in a traditional game that seemed to resemble lacrosse. It had even managed to take Trip’s mind off Malcolm for a while.

So of course it had all been too good to be true.

For a minute, when the captain had received the call from T’Pol, Trip had still been under the illusion everything was hunky dory. He’d even asked if they could stay to finish the game. Then the captain had smiled as he apologised.

One thing Trip had learnt about their vampiric captain was that he had two distinct smiles. The first was his relax-human-everything’s-fine variety which he used when he wanted to reassure. The other was his full-blood-tense-for-trouble kind. Which was what Trip was favoured to now and he immediately backed Archer’s story about needing to purge the impulse manifolds.

Unfortunately for them, their host apparently sensed the deception.

“We know your ship received a transmission,” Zobral declared. “Its all lies. If you’ll listen to me I can explain.”

The captain eyed the crowd and slowly nodded. So they went back into Zobral’s house where he proceeded to tell them a tale of persecution and oppression that he seemingly wanted them to do something about.

“I’m not sure what you expect me to do,” Archer eventually interrupted.

“I scanned your ship,” Zobral told them smugly. “You have an arsenal of powerful weapons.”

Trip glanced to Archer, knowing they couldn’t afford to get involved in this planet’s war but not sure how they’d get out of there without a fight. He noted Archer’s canines were displayed again and for one terrifying moment thought his captain was going to resort to stereotype.

It was almost a relief when the building started to shake.

“What’s that?” he demanded.

“They have started their bombardment early.” Zobral sounded more annoyed than disturbed. “Come. I would not be a very good host if I let you be killed.”

Trip looked over to realise the alien had lifted up a trapdoor, clearing indicating they should head inside.

“I’d sooner head back to Enterprise.”

“Your shuttle would be an obvious target.” Zobral sounded impatient now and Trip glanced again to his captain.

Without a word Archer stepped forward and made his way down. Trip followed and moments later found himself shut in a cellar.

“Well, this is a fine mess,” he commented. “Go somewhere for dinner and end up in the middle of a war.”

“I get the impression this sort of thing will happen a lot,” Archer replied wryly.

“With all due respect captain. I don’t think we should stick around too much longer.” A cloud of dust rained down on them as the ground shook again.

“I agree. Zobral certainly didn’t look like he was going to take ‘no’ for an answer.” Archer immediately opened his communicator. “Archer to Enterprise. Come in Enterprise.”

Static met their ears and Trip grimaced.

“The bombardment?” he queried. “Or something in Zobral’s camp?”

“The bombardment, I’d think,” Archer returned before another, heavier fall of dust made him cough. “Either way its about time we left, don’t you agree?”

Still choking, Trip could only nod his assent and follow the other man back out and through the now burning encampment.

“The shuttle?” he suggested.

The captain shook his head decisively.

“Zobral was right about one thing, we’d be shot down in seconds.”

“Desert then,” Trip affirmed.

“At least its night time.” Archer favoured him with a reassuring grin. “And once we’re away from the camp I’m sure Enterprise will pick up our lifesigns.”

“Yeah. Bet Malcolm’s picked up the weapons fire already.” Trip’s heart fluttered as he thought of the concerned look that would be etching the lieutenant’s brow.

“You’re forgetting its night time aren’t you?”

“Not on the ship,” Trip pointed out. “He won’t have changed yet. Which way?” he added, wanting to change the topic.

“30 kilometers east.” Archer pointed. “I saw an abandoned encampment when we came in. If Enterprise doesn’t pick us up first we should be able to shelter there.”

Trip nodded and then focused on putting as much distance between them and the rebel campsite as they could.

Once they were out of sight, Archer tried contacting the ship again, but still only got static so they pushed on. For a while it was fairly easy going but then they hit the dunes. Climbing up the slippery slopes was hard work and both men struggled. Neither complained though until dawn crested over the far horizon.

“Why ain’t Enterprise picked up our biosigns?” Trip complained, slipping to his knees.

“Not for lack of trying.”

Archer passed the skein of water down to Trip and scanned their surroundings. Nothing but sand in any direction.

“You sure we’re heading the right way?”

“The sun here rises in the East. We’re heading the right way.”

“Thought you weren’t meant to walk across a desert during the day.”

“It’ll be nine hours at least ‘til the sun sets. We need to get to shelter before then. Come on Commander. Up you get.”

Trip allowed himself to be chivvied upright and staggered on after the vampire. The sun was unrelenting in its ferocity and Trip found his mind wandering.

How was it the vampire wasn’t affected by the sun? Weren’t they meant to shrivel up or something? Though Malcolm had told him about that, hadn’t he? Evolution he’d said.

Malcolm. Where was he now? Probably night on the ship now. Was he prowling the corridors? Was he looking for Trip? Did he even think about Trip when he was a wolf?

“Commander? Trip?”

“Huh?” Trip looked up and realised he was on his knees again.

“Drink,” the vampire insisted and Trip almost balked until he saw his water skein. Gratefully he grasped it and drank but there wasn’t much there. Almost immediately Archer passed him his own but Trip shook his head violently.

“No. Won’t drink another man’s water.”

“Commander, I’m a vampire. I can survive out here much longer than you. Now drink. That’s an order.”

Trip took the proffered skein and drank deeply.

“Thanks.”

Archer looped an arm under the man’s shoulder and hauled him along. It was about all Trip could do to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

Then suddenly he stopped, almost unbalancing the vampire pulling at him.

“D’ya hear that?” he slurred.

“You’re hallucinating,” Archer told him. “You have heat exhaustion.”

“No.” Trip struggled to escape his hold and turned back to look the way they’d come. “It’s a howling.”

“It’s in your head Commander. We have to get you shelter and water.”

But Trip shook his head and blinked blearily before pointing.

“There! Its Malcolm.”

On the crest of a dune, silhouetted against the skyline, a wolf threw back its head and howled before charging on towards them.

Trip dropped to his knees again but this time he grinned.

It seemed like an eternity before finally the werewolf was there and Trip didn’t think before throwing his arms round him and hugging him. Malcolm made no objection and even butted his head into Trip’s shoulder.

Seconds later a whirlwind of sand blowing up announced the arrival of the shuttlepod.

“Captain!” T’Pol’s voice called. “Are you and the Commander alright?”

“We’ll be fine. How did you get past the bombardment?”

“The Chancellor of the planet was most open to my… suggestion that he co-operate.”

As they stumbled on board the small craft, Trip found himself leaning on the wolf. Malcolm seemed unwilling to leave his side and even growled when T’Pol moved to offer Trip more water. She arched an eyebrow at the wolf and Malcolm subsided, although he didn’t back away. Instead he settled into the by now familiar position of watching the human.

The realisation struck Trip suddenly, and he might have thought it was just a product of his exhaustion if he’d been thinking straight enough. As it was the words tumbled out without any hesitation.

“Yer already imprinted on me aren’t yer, darlin’?”

The wolf stared at him and Trip took that as answer enough.

“We’ll talk abou’ this,” he slurred. “Jus’ as soon as I’ve had a nap.”

And with that promise, he passed out.


	13. Come the Dawn

Trip had to blink several times before his vision would come back into focus. He hadn’t been aware before now that it was possible for eyes to feel so dry. However the effort was worth it as he saw the concerned face of Lieutenant Reed looking down at him.

He attempted to speak but found his dried lips cracking as he opened his mouth.

“Here.” A glass was extended his way and he gratefully took it. “Better?”

“Much.” Trip was about to say something else – something about Malcolm’s presence or his gratitude that the werewolf had found them – but what he’d said in the shuttlepod suddenly flashed back to him and stopped him short. Had he really managed to embarrass Malcolm like that again? 

At the sound of his patient Phlox materialised effectively cutting off Trip’s self recrimination.

“Ah, Commander Tucker. Back with us I see.”

Malcolm had retreated a pace but as Tucker pulled himself to a sitting position he was glad to realise the other man hadn’t left.

“How am I Doc?”

“Still dehydrated,” Phlox told him briskly. “You’ve been on an intravenous drip overnight so it’s not too severe. And I treated your skin burns so, as long as you don’t over expose yourself for the next few day, you should be good as new.”

“Great. That mean I can go?”

“Indeed. That is why the lieutenant is here.”

“Oh?” Trip’s heart sank at the realisation Malcolm was there under orders and not out of genuine concern but it made a sickly kind of sense.

“Yes,” Phlox continued obliviously. “Until your body fluid level normalises you’ll need to be under supervision. As you effectively share quarters with Lieutenant Reed it was agreed he might take today’s shifts off to monitor you.”

“Right.” Trip hoped his blush might be put down to his recent sun burn rather than embarrassment at the reminder of his shared quarters status. Or rather, embarrassment at how much he must have embarrassed Malcolm again in the shuttle on top of the rumours from them sharing quarters and his faux pas in the messhall. Why did he always seem to bring their private lives out for public consumption?

“Come on Commander.” Malcolm stepped forward again. “Let’s get you out of here shall we?”

Trip said nothing but rather numbly slid off the biobed and fell into step with the lieutenant. As they made their way down the silent corridor, he wondered what he should say to Malcolm. Apologise for his advances? Offer to move back to his own room? Suggest staying in sickbay so the man didn’t have to nursemaid him?

Truth to tell he was bitterly disappointed his sojourn to sickbay hadn’t prompted anything from Malcolm. Surely if the man had any feelings for him then he’d have said something, made a gesture, anything! He’d offered a glass of water, it was true, but in the circumstances not even Trip could read anything into that.

“Are you feeling alright?” Malcolm glanced at him as they stopped in the turbolift. “Do you need to go back to see Phlox?”

“No!” Trip wasn’t sure how long he’d still be welcome in Malcolm’s room and didn’t want to give up what might be his last stay there. “I’m just tired, I guess.”

“Hhhmm.” Malcolm didn’t seem entirely convinced by that as they stepped out and headed towards the crew quarters. “You know… I volunteered to take the day off.”

Trip’s surprise must have been written all over his face if Malcolm’s smile was any indication.

“Its not anyone else’s prerogative to take care of you.”

Trip couldn’t help himself. He reached out and caught Malcolm’s hand, stopping the other man to look at him fully.

“D’you mean you’re… accepting me?”

“I mean you were right. In the shuttle,” Malcolm added in explanation. “You’re already imprinted on me. I couldn’t let anyone else take you from me.”

The words lifted Trip’s spirit so that he faintly floated in Malcolm’s wake to his quarters. _Their_ quarters, he thought happily as he stepped inside the familiar space.

Whether from giddy delight, or lingering dehydration, he swayed briefly and found himself guided to sit on the bunk. Moments later, when he’d brought his swimming vision back under control, he saw another glass of water being held out to him.

“Drink,” Malcolm insisted. “Doctor’s orders. I don’t think either of us want you being dragged back to sickbay for more intravenous fluids.”

Trip grinned and obligingly drank down his water. As he did so though he watched Malcolm moving about, shifting the PADDs Trip had left haphazard on his desk and putting away the clean laundry that had been left.

The thought that he’d get to see Malcolm perform these small domestic chores day to day for possibly his whole future almost overwhelmed him.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said dimly.

The smaller man looked across to him in amusement.

“I believe you’ll find these are still registered as _my_ quarters Commander.”

“I mean with me,” Trip persisted. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

He worried momentarily that he was assuming too much too fast but Malcolm’s soft look at once reassured him.

“I’ve been yours since the moment we first met,” the werewolf told him gently.

Trip’s heart practically swelled with adoration.

“An’ I never realised,” he murmured.

“To be honest I’m glad you didn’t,” Malcolm’s tone returned honestly. “Do you have any idea how mortifying it was to be so suddenly committed to you when I’d literally just met you? I didn’t know anything about you! Just that your scent was now ingrained on my psyche. Its why I found you in the messhall that night,” he admitted. “I’d gone to your quarters but you weren’t there. Lord! If you had been I’d probably have sat pathetically outside. Or worse – howled to be let in!”

Trip swallowed down his joy at hearing how hopelessly the other man seemed to want him. Somehow he didn’t think Malcolm would appreciate the fact being pointed out.

“Can’t imagine a werewolf howling outside mah door that first night would have inspired me to stay,” he offered.

“I was unspeakably glad when I found I did actually like you.” Malcolm smiled.

Trip let his own grin break out.

“Yer admitting that now huh?”

“I can always change my mind,” Malcolm threatened teasingly and Trip laughed.

“Come here,” he suggested, extending a hand towards his friend.

There was a second’s hesitation before Malcolm moved forward and clutched the outstretched hand. Then to Trip’s surprise he slunk right onto his lap, knees resting either side of the engineer’s hips.

“This alright?” he asked hesitantly.

Trip laid his hands decisively on the smaller man’s waist.

“Absolutely,” he replied before leaning in to capture Malcolm’s lips for the first time. The brief press of lips was quickly followed by longer and deeper assaults as both men gave way to feelings too long held back. Trip’s hands moved to the lower back where they could more effectively hold Malcolm against him. Malcolm’s hands had gripped Trip’s head seemingly to prevent an escape, although the only thing that was making Trip break away was the need to breathe.

He swallowed hard at the intensity of the stare being levelled at him.

“Are you sure about this Trip? I mean, a werewolf isn’t most people’s first choice.”

“Darlin’… I’m sure.”

It was all Trip could say but conveyed his sincerity as well as any flowery words.

Malcolm surged forward at the affirmation and all but devoured Trip’s mouth. It was almost instinctive for the engineer to tighten his grip and pull the other man closer but the sudden press of groins made them break apart with two pleasured groans.

“Ah don’t-” Trip broke off as Malcolm rolled his hips against him but then forced the words out. “Ah don’t wanna rush yer.”

“You’re not,” Malcolm assured him with an almost tender press of lips. “I’ve wanted this for-” This time it was Malcolm who was cut off as Trip bucked against him.

After that rational thought was lost in the urgent need to feel each other, to taste and smell and totally experience everything they’d longed for.

Malcolm undulated determinedly, forcing his bulging crotch against Trip’s similar swelling, while Trip held onto his ass and tried desperately to pull him faster, harder. Part of his mind knew they were both still fully clothed, and that he’d really wanted their first time to be more romantic than a frantic rut, but in that moment nothing mattered but the burning desire.

Trip’s wide eyes fixed on Malcolm’s face – thrown back in pleasure, eyes closed, lips parted, beautifully flushed. The knowledge that he was responsible, that he could bring such joy to the person he loved more than anything else in his world, inspired him to try even harder. He urged his constrained hips to thrust more urgently and latched his mouth on the other man’s neck, sucking hard enough to bruise.

Malcolm howled.

The combination – the primal shivering response to that predatory sound, of the sweaty taste beneath his lips, with the scent of sex pervading his nostrils and wetness seeping against his most sensitive part – all conspired to cause Trip to come more violently than he could ever remember and he passed out momentarily.

As he came to, he found himself laid on the bunk, with Malcolm alongside stroking back his sweaty hair.

“Hi,” Trip managed almost coherently.

Malcolm smiled.

“Hello.”

“Haven’t come in my pants for a long while,” he slurred.

He almost winced at the unromantic statement but Malcolm didn’t seem to notice.

“Sorry if I rushed you. I just… had to have you.”

“Tha’s alright. It was the best sex I’ve had in a long while too. An’ if that was only with our pants on…”

“It should improve then,” Malcolm concluded.

“Yeah.” Trip couldn’t hold back a yawn. “Sorry.”

“Its fine. You should really rest anyway.” Malcolm settled himself more comfortably alongside, clearly intending to rest with him.

“Shouldn’t we shower?” Trip suggested drowsily. Truly, he was too exhausted to be bothered but knew it was the sensible thing to do.

“Maybe later. If you don’t mind, I rather like the scent.”

Trip wound a lazy arm around him.

“Whatever you want darlin’. Long as you let me shower before I have t’ go on duty.”

As Trip’s eyes finally slid shut in exhaustion, he heard a murmured reply.

“Of course, love.”

CODA

Trip followed doctor’s orders and rested. Malcolm brought him food and helped him shower as well as enjoying another session of more relaxed lovemaking. When the night came and Malcolm transformed, Trip was once again thoroughly worn out and fell into a deep sleep as soon as the werewolf went for his patrol.

He awoke rather early to a chill draft and rolled over to find a once again human Malcolm sliding into bed with him.

“Is this alright?”

The tentative question once again melted Trip’s heart and he unhesitatingly wrapped his arms around the werewolf.

“Its perfect,” he said, placing a swift kiss against Malcolm’s head. As he felt the smaller man relax into his hold, Trip became aware of his own awake state. The early night and long sleep meant he was feeling revitalised. And the pleasant dreams had prepared him to welcome his lover to bed.

“Ya know,” he drawled, “ah could get used to this new routine.”

He shifted so his arousal was apparent and was rewarded with Malcolm looking up at him with a sparkle to his eyes.

“Well, its like the poem says.”

Trip arched an eyebrow in silent question.

Malcolm smirked.

“Comes the dawn,” he suggested, before proceeding to make Trip do just that.


End file.
